


Up in Flames

by FitofPaige, uwa-so-frisk (disillusionist9)



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Abuse, Adult Content, Alternate Universe - SlaveTale, Angst, Dark Past, Emotional Manipulation, Gender-Neutral Pronouns, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Love, Manipulation, Mental Anguish, Mental Health Issues, Minor Character Death, Multi, Nonbinary Frisk, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Pain, Physical Abuse, Psychological Torture, Rape/Non-con Elements, Reader Is Not Frisk, Reader has a vagina, Slavery, Slaves, Slow Burn, Smut, Torture, Trying not to add the sans/reader tag but its REALLY DIFFICULT, Undertale Monsters on the Surface, heh, nonbinary reader, past sansby, sorry - Freeform, still a little sansby, the major death isn't reader or Grillby
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-30
Updated: 2018-02-17
Packaged: 2019-02-08 13:14:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 43
Words: 85,429
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12865257
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FitofPaige/pseuds/FitofPaige, https://archiveofourown.org/users/disillusionist9/pseuds/uwa-so-frisk
Summary: In a harsh world where humans have taken a race of monsters as slaves, you are homeless. Unable to find work, it soon becomes very difficult for you to scrounge up even one meal per day. You have to make a difficult decision.Your life or your freedom?





	1. Out of the Frying Pan, into the Fire

**Author's Note:**

> Fair warning: This fic is going to be a lot different from anything I've ever written. I want to branch out into different things, and I still love Undertale, so I figure why not have a go at Slavetale?  
> (Thank you, Lavender_Chan.)  
> And why not try something other than a Sans/Reader while I'm at it? XD  
> (...I mean, im not going to throw sans into this mix am I?... AM I??!!)
> 
> Like the note in the summary says, I will do my best to provide appropriate trigger warnings for certain scenes. Some of this story might be difficult to read... and probably difficult for me to write.
> 
> Something I do want to get out of the way, though, is that I want all of you to know I am not writing this out of some sort of kink or anything. I want to write something hard, something aggravating and angsty. Something difficult to swallow, and that people out there actually deal with... well, except the monsters part.
> 
> Anyway. I hope you enjoy the first chapter of Up in Flames!
> 
> -Paige

You hear your name being called over the intercom in the small government building. Standing from your chair, you can feel the eyes of humans and monsters alike staring at you as you trudge down the aisle and up to the first window. The blonde lady behind the glass smacks her gum loudly and looks over the top of her cat-eye glasses at you as you state your name.

“What are you in for today?” She asks, adding a title before your name that makes you cringe.

“I… um…”

You aren’t sure what words to use, not that you talked much nowadays anyway… but how exactly do you tell someone that you want to be a slave?

“I’m turning myself over.” You end up saying.

The lady raises an eyebrow, “Like… you’re a criminal, or?”

You shake your head, “No, I, well… I have no money… no where to go.”

Her eyes scan the parts of you she can see over the counter, you pull your tattered jacket around you tighter, making sure every bit of your skin is covered.

“Oh, I see.” She says, “We get humans like you in here daily. A shame really. Walk over to the side door there and someone will be with you shortly.”

You look off in the direction she points and head that way. You can practically feel the pity in everyone’s stares on your back. Just another poor person who can’t hold down a job, ready to give up their freedom in exchange for a bed and some warm food.

As soon as you step up to the door, it swings open and a man gestures for you to enter. A long hallway stretches out before you, and it suddenly feels a lot colder. 

“___, right?” The man asks.

You nod.

He lets out a sigh, “Alright, follow me.”

He starts down the hallway and you follow close behind, he starts trying to make small talk, and you aren’t sure if he’s trying to make things less awkward for him, or if he just wants you to feel a bit more comfortable.

“I gather you don’t talk much.” He says, to which you shake your head, “That’s fine, I do enough talking for both of us.”

“So, just so you know what to look forward to, right now we’re heading to what us folks like to call the “waiting area.” It’s pretty much exactly what it sounds like, a room where monsters, and some humans, are taken to be checked in.” He tells you.

“In there, a doctor will examine you, fit you with your collar, and you will be put in line where you will be placed with a family… or company… or just a lonely person with money. Could be anyone, honestly.”

The man shuts up and bites his lip, “Sorry, that’s… probably not making things easier on you.” He whispers.

He leads you to a set of doors near the end of the hallway and the two of you step through. You already feel like you’ve stepped into a hospital, and you rub at the chill bumps on your arms. The room is filled mostly with monsters of all shapes and sizes. Many of them look over at you before quickly glancing in another direction.

You follow the man up to the counter where another person sits. He gives them your info and they type some things into the computer. The two of them speak as though you aren’t even there before the man turns back to you.

“Welp, ___, this is where we part.” He says. “They will take good care of you here, and… I hope you get placed somewhere nice.”

His eyes are filled with genuine sorrow and you mouth your thanks to him. He motions for you to have a seat before taking one last look at you and leaving the room. 

You begin to doubt yourself as you sit in a hard, plastic chair. Maybe you should try one more job, surely there was a place in the next town over that you hadn’t applied at? 

You know it’s useless though. Why would anyone hire extra workers when they could just pay a one-time fee for free labor?

It’s only been five years since all hell broke loose. A child fell into a hole at Mount Ebott, and before anyone knew it, they emerged with an entire race of monsters. The kid did their best to get the humans to accept the monsters, but the world leaders weren’t having it. It didn’t take long for humanity to enslave the monsters. A lot of blood was shed in the beginning, monster sympathizers were slaughtered outright… but eventually they were taken in as slaves too. 

Things are a lot more quiet now. People who side with the monsters stay silent, and owning slaves is completely normal for humans now. Monsters are basically lesser animals compared to them, pets, really. 

And then there are the humans living in poverty. Business owners are more likely to use slaves instead of hired help, so there are many more homeless people living on the streets. Many still keep their pride, choosing to die starving rather than give up their independence and become a slave. You were like that once, thinking you could get a new job if you tried hard enough.

You know better now, though. You would endure nearly anything to get rid of the sharp pain eating away at your stomach.

You’re pulled from your thoughts as you hear your name being called. A nurse is standing in the doorway leading to another hallway. You stand and begin to follow her. She’s silent, her eyes emotionless as she points you to a small examination room and utters two words,

“Wait here.”

As soon as you step inside, the door slams shut, causing you to jump back. Colder still, you decide to take a seat on the exam table and wait.

You hate hospitals. You’ve been in and out of them your entire life, which is mostly the reason you’ve been homeless for the past year. You want to run out of the building and go back to the old, familiar back alley where you could hide and sneak scraps of food from the dumpster.

But you know there has to be something better, and this was your only way to find out what that ‘better’ might be.

A human opens the door and steps in, behind them follows a short dinosaur-looking monster with yellow scales. You immediately notice the large collar around her neck.

“Hello, ___. I am Dr. Sar.” The doctor says, “This is my assistant, Alphys. Today we are going to get some medical info from you and perform a routine examination so we may place you in the appropriate household.”

You nod, and they turn to Alphys. With one look from Dr. Sar, she immediately goes to work, opening cabinets and pulling out the utensils needed for what was to come.

“This will be slightly uncomfortable for you, I know, but I am going to need you to remove your clothing.”

You look up at them in shock. They seem to understand the question in your eyes.

“I assure you, you are in safe hands.” They say, attempting to sound caring even though their voice was stone cold.

Your voice is shakey when you try to speak, “D-do I get a gown?”

A small laugh escapes the doctor, “We don’t have time for gowns around here. This will not take long at all, you’ll have your clothes back on before you know it.”

Reluctantly you untie your scarf and take off your jacket. Your eyes burn as you shrug off your sweater, revealing your bare torso. You quickly hug yourself, attempting to cover as much as possible.

You hear a surprised gasp from Alphys, but the doctor just rakes their eyes over your skin. You know they’re staring at the numerous scars on your body, silently judging.

“Burn victim huh?” Dr. Sar says, “That’s unfortunate, but you’re lucky to be alive by the looks of it.”

A knock sounds at the door and the doctor cracks it open, talking to the person on the other side. They seem annoyed as they look back to their assistant.

“Alphys, I need you to take down the basic medical info for ___. I will be back shortly.” They narrow their eyes slightly, “Do not try and make friends with the human.”

Alphys gulps and nods as the doctor leaves the room. You look to Alphys, who is approaching you with caution.

“Um, I’m s-sorry. I d-don’t mean to stare.” She speaks, her voice soft, “It’s j-just… it looks p-painful.”

She seems sweet and caring, and you almost want to tell her what happened… but she is the cold doctor’s assistant, and you don’t trust the doctor.

“It’s not.” You tell her, “It happened years ago.”

“Still… I’m sorry.” She whispers.

Alphys picks up a clipboard and begins writing something down, she then starts asking you basic questions: full name, date of birth, allergies, etc.

After a few minutes of taking down your info, she quietly mumbles something that sounds like “I’m sorry.”

You furrow your brow in confusion and she lets out a sigh.

“I w-wish I knew some way to m-make this easier.” She says as she glances over to the door, “I’ve been t-through this too. It can be scary.”

“Do you know where I’ll go?” You find yourself asking.

She shakes her head, “I’m s-sorry... I don’t.”

The both of you jump slightly as the door swings open once again. Dr. Sar walks in and takes the clipboard from Alphys, looking over her notes.

“Good, good.” She mumbles, “Alright. ___, we will be right back to finish up the exam and send you on your way.”

You meet Alphys’ eyes one last time before she walks out, and you feel sadness for her well up inside of you.

You hate that she has to deal with the doctor, but at least she seems to like what she is doing, and doesn’t seem to be abused.

...would the same be said for you?


	2. Hot Property

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy December everyone! I said I was probably going to update around once or twice a week so I could have chapters prewritten and ready to go... and chapter 3 is almost done.
> 
> Still, here we are, 2 days after the first one was posted and I CAN'T HELP MYSELF!
> 
> I hope you're liking it so far! I can't wait to get into the nitty gritty of the story, for now have some character introductions!
> 
> Enjoy!  
> -Paige
> 
> (remember to leave a comment! They make me smile and I try to reply to everyone! :D )

There are a few different groups of slaves that you could be placed in. Some had already been called for, others were being taken to an auction house.

The one you were in was apparently hand picked for a special group of ‘slave owners’ to look at. You don’t understand what might be so special about you, but you aren’t interested in asking either.

Your hand reaches up to the collar they had placed around your neck only moments ago. It’s a bit bulky, and rather snug against your skin. The metal has now warmed up to your body’s temperature and is no longer uncomfortably cold as when it was first put on. You look at the ones on all the monsters surrounding you, noticing that they weren’t just all one color, and honestly you don’t know what color the one you have on is.

A voice near the front of the room starts talking loudly and you can’t really understand what they’re saying, but suddenly the monsters begin moving forward, so you follow. You’re pretty anxious as you start to feel bodies pressing against you. They’re moving you all through a doorway into another area, where they start lining everyone up against the wall.

The room you are now in is huge, more like an auditorium, and there is now plenty of room for all of the slaves to stand side by side without crowding each other so much.

You watch silently as the workers patrol the area, keeping an eye on all of you. Your eyes fall on the set of doors at the far end of the room, they have just opened and quite a few people are making their way inside.

Most of the people are dressed very nicely, their posture stiff and pompous, they look around at the slaves as though they are far, far beneath them.

And honestly, you were. These families are the richest in the area, no doubt about it. They probably own multiple monster slaves, and they just want to add to their collection. You try to control your nervous breathing as they begin to split off, moving to each area of the room to look over each potential piece of property.

A woman’s eyes meet yours and you can’t help but avert your gaze. You can sense her walking toward you, but you continue to look at the floor as though it’s the most interesting thing on earth. Soon her shiny black high heels come into view and you hold your breath.

Isn’t this what you want? Why are you so afraid now?

“Look up at me, love.”

Her voice is sweet and you find yourself meeting her eyes immediately. Her eyes are a lovely shade of green, and her hair is long, black, and shiny. Her cherry red lips turn up into a smile as she studies you.

“You are quite the beauty, huh?” She says, “What is your name, dear?”

Your voice is shaky as you tell her your name. She reaches out, and you try not to flinch away as her hand rests gently on your face.

“That’s a lovely name, for a lovely lady.”

You physically cringe at the term and she takes notice.

“I’m sorry… Are you not a lady?” She asks.

You open your mouth to speak, but the words die in your throat. No, you’re not a lady, you’re not a gentleman either…. You’re just you.

Her face softens further and she runs her thumb over your cheekbone.

“It’s quite alright, I understand you are afraid. That fear will go away with time.”

“Find one you like, darling?” A man asks as he walks over, draping his arm over the woman’s shoulders. His eyes drag up and down your entire body, making you want to curl up and hide away.

“I believe so, dearest. What do you think? Isn’t s-” The woman stops to look at you again, “...Aren’t they beautiful?”

Your face feels warm and you look away again, though you are appreciative of her trying to make you more comfortable, you still want to hide as you feel them looking over you.

“I say they’d make a nice houseguest.” The man says, “A wonderful playmate for the others as well.”

“My thoughts exactly.” The woman replies.

You hear the man calling one of the workers over as the woman takes a step closer to you. Her hand softly lifts your chin so that you’re looking into her eyes. She is smiling once again.

“Would you like to come home with us?” She asks, “We will treat you well, you will have good food and a warm bed, and I’m sure you will get along well with our other pets.”

You know by ‘pets’ she means slaves, and that disgusts you… but the pain in your stomach doesn’t care about that, and your aching back doesn’t give a shit either.

You can endure being someone’s ‘pet.’

You nodded and the lady’s grin widens.

“Perfect. Let us go get your paperwork done, shall we.”

You can feel the eyes of jealous monsters on you as you follow her across the room to one of the few desks set up. Piles upon piles of file folders are stacked on the desks, and several people are working to flip through them in order to get the info for each slave to the new owners. The black-haired lady gets the attention of her partner and tells him your name. He nods and approaches the desk to get your file.

It doesn’t take long for everything to become sorted out and for your life to be signed away, after all, you are a slave now, you are less than human. 

At least your new owners don’t seem all that terrible, though you’re still very wary of them. You know from experience that you can never truly know a person.

The woman turns to you once again after signing your papers, “My oh my, I never introduced my husband and I properly, did I?”

You shook your head slowly and she took your hand in hers.

“Well, my name is Petra Williams, this is my husband, Charles. You may call us whatever makes you feel the most comfortable.”

You can’t help but be surprised at Petra’s words. When you signed up for this, you imagined being picked by horrible, abusive people, but this couple seems fairly… normal.

“Thank you.” You say quietly.

“Of course, dear.” Petra reaches for your hand again, “I’m so excited for you to meet the rest of the family.”

 

You are lead out to the William’s car, which looks as elegant as you imagined. Charles opens one of the rear doors for you and gives you a smile that feels fake to you. You meet his dark eyes and nod your thanks, you don’t trust him.

You watch out the window as they drive through the city. You know every street, every dark alley of this place. It’d been your home ever since you could remember. There were so many shops that had come and gone over the years, and buildings were beginning to break down, but it was all so familiar to you.

And now you were leaving it. The tall buildings around you soon became acres of lush forest, and you begin to  wonder how far out these people live.

“Now, ___, I want you to know that our house is pretty big, so there's plenty of space for you, despite us having multiples of your kind there.”

Petra pauses and sends an apologetic look back at you.

“Sorry, I mean those of you with a collar. I didn't mean to call you a monster when you're so obviously human.”

You try not to frown and show your displeasure in her words. You have no issue in being called a monster or anything… but why couldn't she just call you for what you were?

A slave.

“Anyway, we haven't really figured out sleeping arrangements for you, but we have an idea.” She continues, “You wouldn't mind a roommate, would you?”

That certainly depends, you want to say. Instead you just shake your head.

Petra smiles, “Perfect! I'm sure you will love the monster we are thinking of putting you with. He is very sweet.”

“Too sweet for his own good sometimes.” Charles mutters under his breath.

“Oh dearest, don't be like that.” Petra says, reaching over to ruffle his light brown hair, “He can't help that he's so nice!”

Nice is good, you think. You just hope they aren't being sarcastic or just outright lying.

It's at least another half an hour before the car pulls into a driveway. You see a large gate blocking the path, but Charles simply pushes a button on his dash and it immediately opens. The driveway is rather long, but you can see a lot of the house from the end of it. By the time you actually reach the house, you realize it isn't just a ‘large house’ at all.

It's a friggin mansion.

Charles pulls into a multi-car garage and you see quite a few luxury vehicles inside. You step out of the car and stretch a bit before Petra steps over to your side. Charles begins walking to the door entering the house and the two of you follow.

“If you will please take off your shoes and set them aside as you enter.” Charles says.

You do just that, slipping out of your old sneakers and setting them just inside the door next to a few other pairs of shoes.

The floor itself looks like pristine, extremely expensive, white tile… marble maybe? You aren’t sure, but you know it probably costs more than anything you’ve ever owned. The ceilings are very tall and you feel even shorter than you are as you follow the two through the hallway.

And then you step into a sitting room bigger than your last apartment and you are completely overwhelmed. You must have shuddered or gasped because Petra’s hand is suddenly reaching for yours.

“Welcome home, love.” She says, “I know it may be a little difficult to stay here at first, but you will quickly adjust, I am sure of it.”

Something on the far side of the room grabs your attention and you look over. A monster is heading toward you, its body resembles that of a bathtub filled with water and it’s round head is bobbing up and down. You recall seeing one of these before on the streets.

“Ah, Washua, there you are.” Charles says, “I am sure you are keeping everything spick and span as always?”

Washua smiles, “Wosh house! House always clean!”

“Good, good.” Charles says.

Petra notices you staring and squeezes your hand, “Washua’s job here is to make sure the house is tidy. Each of our pets have a certain task they are meant to do. In return, they are well taken care of, as you will be.”

You have so many questions. How many slaves do they own? Are you the only human? And what will your job be?

Petra begins walking again, pulling you with her.

“Come on now, let us introduce you to your new roommate.”


	3. Stepping into the Line of Fire

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Posting from work because I can't wait
> 
> Also, I might be about to put my notice in here, which would mean I'd have more time to write! We shall see.
> 
> Please remember to leave a comment if you're liking the story!
> 
> Enjoy!!  
> -Paige

After following Petra up a flight of ornate stairs, she leads you to a door near the end of the first hallway you turn into.

She lifts her hand and knocks lightly on the door, “Papyrus, are you in there?”

The door swings open and your eyes widen as they fall on the monster before you. He’s clearly a skeleton monster, a very tall one at that, over 6 feet tall for sure. He’s wearing what looks to be some sort of armor.

“OH-” Papyrus clears his… throat? “Oh, missus, I didn't expect to see you back so soon!”

You notice that his voice seems strained as he speaks, and he lets out a squeak of surprise as he sees you. His eyes go straight to your collar and he seems a little confused.

“A human?” He says, looking back at Petra, “There are human slaves?”

“Of course, Papyrus. Had you not seen any in any of your previous homes?” She asks.

He shakes his skull, “No ma'am.”

“Oh, well-”

There's a commotion downstairs and soon Charles’ voice calls up the stairs.

“Petra, darling, can you please come down here a moment?”

Petra lets out a sigh and looks to Papyrus, “I better go see what that's all about. Papyrus, this is ____, and they're going to be your new roommate from now on. Do you mind showing them their new space?”

“I do not mind one bit!” Papyrus says rather enthusiastically.

You feel rather fearful as Petra leaves your side. You aren't sure about the monster you just met. You don't want to be rude, but… well, he's an actual skeleton. And the only thing you can relate skeletons to is death.

Papyrus calls your name and you meet his eyes. He smiles, actually smiles. You aren't sure how, but he steps to the side and makes a big gesture to welcome you into the room.

“Welcome to your new home!” He says, his voice slightly louder now, “I must say, I am surprised that the missus brought back a human! Usually she and sir bring only monsters home!”

You aren't sure why he is saying titles like “Sir” and “Missus.” Is he not allowed to say their names?

You take in the room, which is fairly spacious. The left side of the room contains a bed and shelves lined with numerous toys, puzzles, and books. The right side is nearly empty, the bed made neatly like a clean hotel room expecting a new guest for the night.

“I know it's terribly empty at the moment, but I'm sure you will be able to fill it up with all sorts of things soon!” He says.

“I don't h-have anything.” You say in a whisper.

“No worries! The missus loves going shopping for all of us! She even takes a few of us with her sometimes!” Papyrus says, beaming.

You notice him wince slightly as his volume grows loudly with his last sentence, the collar around his neck blinking red for a moment before going back to its normal orange color.

“Are you okay?” You find yourself asking.

“Yes, I'm sorry, I did not mean to worry you.” He says, “Sir doesn't like my normal voice, so he made it so the collar keeps from talking too loudly.”

You frown, but his smile is soon plastered back on as though nothing had happened.

“Anyway, as I was saying, I'm sure the missus will take you soon to go get new things! She usually takes the new guests out soon after they arrive!” He tells you.

You glance over at his side of the room once again, “How long have you been here?” You ask.

Papyrus thinks for a moment, “Not too long… I believe it's been 5 or 6 months now.”

You have more questions, but you don’t speak them aloud. You’re still very nervous to be here, and unsure if you actually made the right choice in handing over your very life to strangers. 

“Sorry you two, there was an issue in the kitchen, but it’s been resolved.” You hear as Petra enters the room once again, “So, what do you think of your new space?”

She’s looking at you and you want to smile and tell her it’s nice, but you just can’t. She frowns slightly, but steps closer and gently places her hand on your shoulder, you only flinch slightly.

“I know this is all new and scary, but we’ll go out soon and get you some new things to make the room feel more welcoming.” She says, smiling at you once again.

“And I will do all I can to make sure you are comfortable here!” Papyrus says proudly, placing his closed fist over his chest.

Petra reaches out with her other hand and places it over his, “I know you will, dear. Thank you for that.”

A slight blush dusts Papyrus’ cheekbones, and it confuses you a bit because he’s an actual blushing skeleton. 

She looks to you again, “I will look at my schedule tonight and set aside a day to take you out. How does that sound?”

“That sounds good.” You say softly.

Petra looks at the fancy gold watch on her arm, “Looks like it’s almost dinner time. Why don’t we all go down to the dining room, I’m sure the food will be set out shortly.”

You silently follow the two of them back down the stairs and through the sitting area. Glancing around, you can see there are multiple doorways and hallways just on your way to the dining room. You wonder how big the mansion actually is.

Petra leads you into the largest dining room you’d ever seen. In the center of it there is an extremely long, beautiful wooden table lined with matching chairs on each side.

“This is where we usually eat our meals, though some prefer to eat in their rooms.” Petra says, “You are welcome to eat wherever you feel most comfortable, ____.”

You nod your thanks and watch a couple of bunny monsters set the table. They don’t speak, but they look content.

“Missus, do you know what we’re having tonight?” Papyrus asks.

“I believe it is lamb chops tonight.” She answers, “I am unsure about the dessert though.”

She turns to you once again, “Would you like to see the kitchens?”

You really wish she’d stop asking you questions, but you simply nod again. This is your owner now, and you don’t want to upset her. She smiles and leads you to the far side of the room through a set of doors.

It looks like something you’d find in a large restaurant. There are multiple stoves, ovens, sinks, any kind of cooking equipment you can think of, really. The kitchen seems to have everything you’d ever need to prepare the perfect meals. There are multiple monsters around performing various tasks. 

“Obviously, this is where all the food is prepared.” Petra says, “We have a stockroom in the back as well for our food supplies. We always make sure to have fresh produce and meats on hand since there are so many living here.”

Your mouth begins to water and right on cue, your stomach growls loudly. You hug your arms around your stomach, slightly embarrassed, but Petra looks at you sympathetically.

“Oh you poor dear, I bet you’re starving!” She says, “Let me go get Grillby real quick and see if he has something already whipped up to give you.”

Petra disappears into the back of the kitchens, leaving you with Papyrus.

“Grillby is the head chef here.” Papyrus tells you, “He’s really nice, though a bit quiet.”

You feel like you might get along well with Grillby, you love silence.

“Here they are.” You hear Petra as she comes back into the room, “Grillby, meet ___, our newest house guest. ____, this is-”

You can’t hear what she says next, the only noise your ears pick up is the sound of your heart beating hard and fast. Suddenly you can’t breathe and you think you smell smoke.

“Fire.” You choke out, taking a step back.

You’re trembling, your skin tingles, your scars  _ burn. _

Flames engulf your vision, it’s just like before. You can’t stop it, you can’t escape it, and you can’t save anyone.

You see the fire step toward you, a hand reaching out. You try to back away, but you find yourself falling. You try to scream, but you aren’t sure if you even make a sound.

It isn’t long before, in your panic, the world turns to darkness.


	4. May I Ash You a Question?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AGHHHH, I WANT TO POST 5 AND 6 NOW!
> 
> But I'm not gonna.
> 
> I AM going to try to post a chapter every other day though!
> 
> Remember to leave a comment of you're liking the story! It is much appreciated!
> 
> Enjoy!  
> -Paige

_ You’re jolted awake by your father pulling you out of bed, frantically speaking…. Something about a fire? _

_ “Dad, what’s wrong?” You ask sleepily. _

_ “The house is on fire, we have to go, come on!” _

_ You’re on your feet, your dad dragging you by the hand. You can smell the smoke and you wake up instantly. Out in the hallway, you can see flames and panic wells up inside of you. _

_ Dad takes you outside and turns back. Your mom and brother are still inside. What’s happening? They should be out here? Are they stuck? _

_ You want to go back and help, but fear makes your feet feel heavy. Pieces of wood start falling off your childhood home, you can hear the wailing of a siren approaching. _

_ Dad still isn’t back. Your whole family is still inside the house, and it looks like it’s going to come crashing down at any moment. _

_ You hear your little brother scream and you run in before thinking. It’s hard to see, but you keep running forward. _

_ You choke out your brother’s name, your dad comes into view and tells you to go back outside. _

_ You can’t, your family is inside the house, you can’t leave them behind. _

_ The smoke is getting thicker, the flames are closing in. _

_ “___, GO!” Are the last words you’ll ever hear your father say. _

_ Flames lick your skin, the agony is unlike anything you’ve ever felt before. A scream tears from your throat as debris collapses down onto you. _

_ You pass out, only to wake up in the hospital days later to find that your family had died in the fire. _

 

You wake up in an unfamiliar room. You begin to sit up, but your head feels dizzy and there’s a pressure on your neck. Your hand moves to your throat.

The collar.

It all comes back to you. You turned yourself over to slavery so you’d have a roof over your head and food in your belly… though it still feels like you really need that food.

“___, you’re awake.” Papyrus approaches your bed, “Are you alright? You fainted in the kitchen.”

A shiver runs through your body as you remember.

“There was a fire.” You whisper.

Papyrus looks a little confused, “You mean Grillby? He’s a fire monster… Were you scared of him?”

A fire monster? That’s a thing? Now you feel even more scared. There is a living being made of fire, and you are in the same house as him.

Papyrus says your name again, pulling you out of your sudden haze. His boney face somehow looks worried.

“You don’t need to be afraid of Grillby, he is a very nice monster! He enjoys making food for everyone. He even made you a sandwich and was going to give it to you before you fainted.” He tells you.

You frown. In a way, you feel bad. You don’t want to upset anyone by being afraid of them, but still…

He’s made of  _ fire _ .

Papyrus slowly reaches out to touch you and you flinch away, he looks sad and now you feel even worse.

“Sorry.” You mumble.

Papyrus seems surprised, “There is nothing to be sorry for! I understand that you are frightened and I do not mean to scare you further, is there anything I can do that might make you more comfortable?”

You can practically feel the kindness radiating from the skeleton monster next to you. He clearly just wants to help, and here you are trying to get away from him.

Geez, you’re pretty horrible, aren’t you?

Your stomach growls as it did before and you groan.

“Oh! You never got to eat!” Papyrus says, jumping up, “I shall go get that sandwich for you now!”

You don’t get a chance to say anything before he dashes out of the room. You’re thankful that he’s so determined to take care of you, and you are excited to finally get some food, though you still feel bad. 

You sit up and press your back against the headboard of the bed. You wonder what Petra and Grillby think of you now. Did you embarrass Petra to the point where she wishes she didn’t bring you home? Does Grillby think you hate him? And in turn, does he hate you?

You’re still thinking about it when Papyrus comes back into the room with a plate of multiple sandwiches and a glass of water. He brings them over to you and sits at the foot of your bed.

“I had some fresh ones made for you.” He says, “I thought you might want more than one, you seem pretty hungry!”

Your hands move at their own accord to grab a sandwich and shove it into your mouth. You have to remind yourself to chew so you don’t choke, but you’re almost in tears over finally having a decent meal.

Papyrus watches you eat for a few minutes and you don’t mind a bit. The sandwiches are so delicious that you clear the entire plate.

“Feel better?” He asks once you’re done.

You nod, and then your thoughts go back to earlier.

“Is… Grillby upset with me?” You ask, your voice quivering slightly.

“No, of course not!” Papyrus assures you, “He’s very understanding. He knows that some humans may be afraid of him, it is quite alright!”

You don’t really feel much better, in fact, you are now saddened by the fact that people are afraid of the monster, and that he’s completely okay with it… or perhaps Papyrus is just saying that to make you feel better.

“What about Miss Petra?” 

“She was very worried when you passed out.” He says, “I was going to go tell her that you are awake, but she is in her quarters and none of us are allowed to disturb her when she is in there.”

You furrow your brow, “What if there’s an emergency?”

“We usually figure things out for ourselves, but she did tell us that if it is a true emergency, then we are allowed to knock on her door.” He tells you, “But only then.”

You gather that Petra must be a pretty private person, which you kind of understand. She lives in a house with many monsters, so it makes sense that she would want some alone time.

“She will see in the morning that you are awake and doing well!” Papyrus smiles, “Do not worry! She is not upset!”

The corner of your mouth twitches up into a smile, “Thank you, Papyrus.”

The room grows quiet for a few moments, Papyrus looks like he wants to ask you a question, but is too afraid to, and honestly, you’re too afraid to ask him what it might be. 

“Um…” He starts, looking away from you in nervousness, “___, may I ask you a question?”

“Sure.” You say, fiddling with the hem of your shirt.

“Why is it that you’re so scared of Grillby?” He asks you.

“I, um.” You start, unsure how much you want to tell him, “I’m… afraid of fire.”

“Oohh.” He says, stroking his chin in thought, “I guess I can understand that!”

“Can I ask you a question?” You ask.

“Of course!” Papyrus says with a smile.

“Are you happy here?” 

Papyrus looks a bit shocked at your question, “Yes! I love it here! This is by far the best home I’ve had here on the surface.”

You look at him curiously, “Yeah?... How many other places have you been? I-if you don’t mind me asking.”

“Of course not, I will answer any questions you have!” He tells you, “I’ve been to 2 other homes since I got up here.”

“Were they… bad?” The question slips out before you can stop it. You’re suddenly worried that you might have asked too much.

Papyrus thinks for a moment, carefully choosing his words.

“The first one was okay, I was with my brother, but… they couldn't keep us both.” He says, “The second was, well, it was a place that I would rather not go back to, and I am glad to be away from.”

You frown, poor Papyrus, he had to be separated from his brother and who knows where he is now. You decide not to push any further questions on him, he already looks uncomfortable.

“I'm sorry it was bad for you.” You tell him, “I'm glad you're happier here.”

His smile is back instantly, “You do not have to be sorry! It's not your fault at all. But thank you for the sentiment.”

You have this overwhelming feeling to reach out and attempt to comfort him, but you don't. He seems nice enough, but you only just met this monster today, and you aren't sure about trying to be his friend at this point.

“Miss Petra said that each of you have a job.” You say, “What is yours?”

“I help out around the house!” He says proudly, “I tend to the garden, make sure all the plants inside are well taken care of, and I sometimes decorate if the missus wants to change up the interior of the house!”

“Sounds like a lot of work.” You tell him.

“I enjoy it!” He says, “Did missus assign you a job yet?”

You shook your head.

“I'm sure she will give you one soon!” He tells you, doing his best to lift your spirits.

You’re worried though, what kind of job would she have for you? Will it be difficult? What if it’s something you feel that you can’t do… Or the opposite, if it’s so easy that you’ll become bored with it.

You shake your head in an attempt to clear the thoughts from your mind. You know you shouldn’t worry too much. After all, you put yourself here, you should take everything that comes your way with open arms.

“Are you sure you’re feeling alright?” Papyrus asks you.

You look to him again, “Yeah… just a little tired.”

He nods understandably, “Of course, you should rest more! You’ve had a stressful day.”

He stands up once again and takes the empty dishes from you.

“I shall refill your glass of water and let you sleep.” 

He leaves the room and you snuggle back under your covers. It doesn’t take long for you to feel exhausted. Papyrus was right, the day had been very stressful.

Right before you fall asleep, you see a full glass of water being placed on your nightstand, and you can hear your new roommate telling you to sleep well.


	5. Bringing the Heat

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It is really difficult to not post every single day since the next 3 chapters are already done. XD
> 
> I hope you are all still liking the story! I appreciate each of you and love to hear from you in the comments!
> 
> Enjoy!  
> -Paige

You wake up to Papyrus calling you. He’s crouched down at the side of your bed.

“I was going to gently shake you awake, but I remembered that you don’t like to be touched much.” He said, “I hope it’s okay that I woke you up like this, I thought you might want to go downstairs with me for breakfast.”

It takes a moment for your brain to take in everything. You’re a slave in a mansion, Papyrus is your roommate, he wants you to go eat breakfast downstairs.

Where the fire monster is.

You bite your lip and try not to meet Papyrus’ eyes.

“I will make sure you are not in the same room as Grillby, if that will make you more comfortable.” He says as though he read your mind.

_ Can _ he read your mind?

You groan as you push yourself from the bed, there’s a weird sensation in your muscles. You don’t feel  _ as  _ stiff as you usually do, but you still feel extremely tired. Hopefully you’ll get used to things after a few days… like sleeping in an actual bed again.

Papyrus stands up straight again, smiling at seeing you get out of bed.

“I bet the missus is in the dining room already! I’m sure she will be very happy to see you up and about!” He tells you.

You don’t say anything as you follow him down the stairs, not that you would be able to get a word in, he’s rambling on about what kinds of things he’s going to do today and the monsters that he wants to introduce you to.

Upon entering the dining room, you see Petra and Charles eating breakfast with a few monsters you haven’t met yet. One of them looks like a bipedal cat, and the other is some sort of very large bug.

“Ah! There you are!” Petra says. She immediately stands and approaches you, “How are you feeling, dear? Are you alright?”

She touches your face gently and you try not to flinch away.

“I-I’m okay.” You tell her, “Sorry about last night.”

Petra shakes her head, “No, I’m sorry! I should have asked you beforehand if you had any fears. I apologize for putting you in a situation where you would panic.”

This is not the reaction you expected at all, and you aren’t sure what to say, but the warmth of her hand still on your cheek is causing your heartbeat to speed up slightly.

“Tell you what, ___,” She continues, “Later tonight we will sit down and talk about what we can do to make this place feel like home to you. How does that sound?”

“O-okay.” You say.

She smiles and drops her hand, “Perfect. For now, let’s all sit down and eat, I’m sure you’re hungry.”

You follow her to the table, finding that Papyrus has already sat down and started eating. Petra pulls out a chair next to him and gestures for you to sit. You do and she goes back over to her seat. In just a few short minutes, one of the bunny monsters comes over with a plate full of eggs, bacon, and toast. Your mouth is watering immensely and it’s difficult for you not to scarf down the entire plate as fast as possible.

“___,” Charles speaks up, “I’d like to introduce you to two more of your housemates.”

You look up and watch as he nods toward the feline monster.

“This is Kiku. She takes care of all the bedding in the house.” He then motions over to the bug monster, “And this is Cricket. He helps take care of the lawn and garden areas.”

“N-nice to meet you.” You say quietly.

“Likewise.” Kiku says, her voice soft and velvety.

Cricket just nods and continues eating.

“I believe today we will be figuring out what sort of job we want you to perform around the house.” Charles says to you before looking over at Petra, “We have a few ideas, but will need to talk over it a little more.”

“And of course, we will discuss them with you before coming to a conclusion.” She tells you.

You nod and go back to eating. You wonder what kinds of ideas they might have for you, and if you really will get a say in the final decision. It all feels very strange to you, when you think of the word ‘slave’ you picture someone held against their will, someone who gets beaten for stepping out of line even once. But this doesn’t seem like slavery at all. Perhaps these humans actually hate slavery and want at least some monsters to have a nice place to live. There has to be people like that out there, right?

 

After finishing your meal, and feeling quite full, Papyrus decided to take you around the house to meet some of the other monsters. There were so many, you knew you’d forget at least half of their names. He took you on a tour of the mansion, and you realized the place was even bigger than you previously thought. Why did Petra and Charles need so much space? How did they even acquire this mansion in the first place?

You finally arrive back at your room hours later, tired and sweaty from walking all over the place. Once you take off your jacket, it hits you.

You haven’t showered in quite a while.

Your eyes go to the mirror hanging on the wall and you step over to it to have a look at yourself. Your hair is messed up and you can feel how dirty it is as you try to fix it. Now that you’re thinking about it, your skin feels gross and slightly itchy.

“Is something wrong?” Papyrus asks you as he steps into the room.

You look at him, “Um… is there a shower we’re allowed to use?”

“Of course!” Papyrus says, “There’s a few that are just for monsters… I’m not sure if the missus would rather have you use one of those or another one though.”

You figure that yes, you will be using the monster ones, since you are a slave. But in order to not anger your owners, you think it’s probably for the best if you ask Petra first.

“Do you know where she is?” You ask.

“I think I saw her in the sitting room before I came back up here.” He tells you.

You go ahead and make your way back down the stairs and into the sitting room. Petra is sitting on one of the sofas, reading a magazine. She looks up and smiles when she sees you.

“I was just thinking about how I needed to find you soon.” She says, “Come, sit with me.”

You can’t help but hesitate. Surely she’d be able to smell you if you sat down close to her. She notices you stop and frowns slightly.

“Is everything okay?” She asks.

“I, um…” You rub your arm nervously, unsure of how to explain your issue to her without feeling completely embarrassed.

Petra closes the magazine and sets it on the side table before standing up. She steps over to you and you fight the urge to back away. Her eyes are filled with concern as she brushes a stray hair from your face.

“You can tell me anything, you know.” She says, “There’s no need to be nervous. I’m here to help in any way I can.”

“It’s j-just that… I’m not exactly clean.” You cringe at your explanation.

She smiles sympathetically, “Is that all, love?”

Before you can process what’s going on, she takes your hand in hers and begins to walk toward the back of the mansion.

“You know, I feel bad for what happened yesterday.” She says as she walks, “I take full responsibility, and I would like to make it up to you.”

You don’t ask what she means as the two of you approach a very nice set of double doors. She opens one and leads you inside, letting it close behind you. You’re speechless as your eyes take in what you believe to be the master bedroom. There’s a smaller room further back that holds a large canopy bed. The whole area smells like roses and is filled with the most exquisite furniture you’ve ever seen.

You aren’t able to take it all in as you’d like though. You find yourself being steered toward another door, this one leading into a spacious bathroom. Petra closes the door, lets go of your hand, and walks over to an enormous spa-tub. You watch as she reaches in to plug the drain and turns the water on.

“You’re okay with baths, yes?” She asks, walking over to you again.

“Y-yeah.” You say.

Her hands come up to rest on your shoulders, her green eyes dance as they hold your’s in their captivating gaze.

“This is probably something you are not used to, but, if you would let me…”

Her hands have moved down your arms now, one of them leaving to rest at your hip. You’re slightly confused when she starts playing with the hem of your shirt.

“...take care of you.” 

“I…” Your voice catches in your throat when her fingers touch the bare skin of your stomach.

“Are you alright with this?” She asks, “I will stop if you want me to.”

You aren’t sure what you want at this point. A voice in your mind is screaming that this is wrong, but the part of your brain that processes her touch is louder.

How is this any more wrong than owning someone?

You’re here to make her happy, aren’t you?

You’re her slave after all.

“I- I don’t want you to stop.” You eventually whisper.

She smiles, “Don’t worry, love. We’re just going to take a bath… You don’t need to hide anything from me.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There is smut in the next chapter. Its a nice smut. 10/10 if I do say so myself.


	6. In Hot Water*

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: SMUT! it begins and ends with ~*~*~. If you wish to skip that bit, there will be a short summary in the end notes!
> 
> I know I just posted a chapter yesterday, but today is a great day! I get to meet a friend in person who I met through the Undertale fandom when I first jumped into it nearly 2 years ago! So I'm celebrating by giving everyone smut! XD
> 
> Enjoy!  
> -Paige

Grillby works hard to finish cleaning up the mess from the last dish he prepared. All the while his mind is running over many things. The chores he needs to do next, what's on the menu tomorrow, how Papyrus ran downstairs to apologize to him on behalf of you the night before.

And his thoughts are on you again. The look of sheer terror in your eyes when you first saw him, how the color drained from your face… He knows fire can be pretty scary to humans, but he's never had someone straight up panic and faint over simply seeing him.

He wonders if something might have happened to make you so afraid, or if it’s just one of your biggest fears. Either way, it doesn't feel good to him, to scare someone like that, but he tries to look at the situation from the other side, he wants to understand your perspective.

Leaving the kitchen, Grillby heads toward the sitting room in search of one of his owners, instead he sees Papyrus watering one of the large plants by the entryway.

“Hey Grillby!” Papyrus smiles and waves.

Grillby decides to walk over to the skeleton. He and Papyrus have never been the closest of friends, but they have no qualms with one another. Their drastically different personalities just didn't mesh as well as, say, He and Papyrus’ older brother, Sans.

But he hadn't seen Sans in quite a while…

Grillby shakes the thought from his head, he doesn't want to think about him right now. Instead, he focuses his attention back on Papyrus.

“Are you looking for the missus?” Papyrus asks before Grillby can.

“Either one.” He says.

“I think sir is in his study.” Papyrus tells him, “The missus is in the bedroom with ___.”

Grillby raises a brow, “___?”

Papyrus nods, “She took them in there a while ago.”

Grillby glances toward the back of the house where the master bedroom is.

“I wonder if she’s assigning them a job or something.” Papyrus says.

Grillby lets out a quiet breath, “Maybe.”

He won’t tell him how unlikely that is.

\--

~*~*~*~

The heat from the water is like heaven on your skin. The loofah running over your body feels amazing, like a month’s worth of grime is being scrubbed away.

Petra is in front of you in the bathtub, her skin glistening with the steam rising from the water. She’s absolutely beautiful, when she had taken her clothes off, you hadn’t been able to tear your eyes away from her. She has an hourglass body that you hadn’t noticed when she was wearing her day clothes. Her damp, black hair hangs down and sticks to her breasts and you find yourself wanting to reach out and touch her… but you don’t.

Instead, you sit still as she bathes you. It feels strange, yet, right. She has a calm smile on her face, her eyelids heavy as she looks over your body. When she undressed you, you wanted to hide, but she had gently unwound your arms from your body and said such soothing words to you about how nice you look.

You don’t feel quite as nervous now, though your body is still frozen in place. Petra scoots a little closer to you in the bath, leaning forward to run the loofah along your back. Her breasts are almost touching your chest and you find it hard to breathe.

“Would you like me to wash your hair, love?” She asks.

“If… if you’d l-like to.” You sputter.

She lets out a breathy chuckle and leans down at your ear.

“I’d love to.” She whispers.

She slides back and grabs for a removable shower head attached to the back of the spigot and pulls it over. She turns it on and feels the water before bringing it above you and letting it run all over your head. You close your eyes and breathe deep as she starts running her fingers through your hair.

Once your hair is soaked, she puts down the shower head and grabs for the shampoo, rubbing a generous amount between her hands before working it into your hair. You nearly moan as her fingernails scratch at your scalp.

She's chuckling again, her laughter tingling like tiny bells in your ears. You feel one of her hands move away and slide down to your chest. You can't help but gasp when her fingers trail over one of your nipples. She gently twists it and you bite your lip as a surge of heat rushes downward, causing you to try and pull your thighs together.

“You're really quite lovely, you know.” She tells you, “I hope you're enjoying yourself… as much as I am.”

Her hands are gone again and she's grabbing the shower head. She asks you to tilt your head back and you do while she sprays the water on you once more, using a hand to help push the shampoo out.

She moves even closer and you feel her lips against your neck, trailing little kisses down to your collarbone.

By the time she is done with your hair, the craving between your legs is unbearable. You haven't been touched like this in so long, and never by such a gorgeous woman.

You try not to cry out when her hand dips under the water and a single finger runs over your slit. She smirks as she opens you up slightly.

“It's hard to tell where you end and the water begins.” She says.

You’re blushing like mad, but you don't care, not as long as she continues playing with you the way she is.

Suddenly you find yourself pressed back against the wall of the tub. She's leaning into you, her breasts against your own. You let out a soft moan and she laughs again.

“You can be as loud as you want with me, darling.” She whispers.

Her finger slides into you completely and you don't stop your moan this time. She smiles and begins moving in and out of you at an easy pace.

“I'm guessing it's been a while for you, huh?”

You nod, biting hard into your lip, your body trembling.

“No worries, love, you're doing well.” She says, “How are you feeling?”

You can't answer with words, you merely whine. She adds a second finger and it slips into you easily. At this point, you're practically panting.

“I'll take that as a sign for good.” She smiles, “Now, tell me… what are you wanting right now?”

Your face is burning more than ever. There's a lot of things you want at the moment.

“Y-you.” You manage to say.

Her green eyes are looking fierce.

“Good answer, darling.” She pumps her fingers into you a little faster, “Anything else?”

The heat in your core feels so close to bursting, your toes are curling from the intense pleasure of her touch.

“I need to… I… have to-”

You cry out as she curls her fingers inside you and pumps even harder. An orgasm wracks your body like never before, and Petra lets out a small hiss as your walls grip her fingers.

“That's right, love, ride it out.” She coaxes.

You whimper as your body convulses, tears slip from the corners of your eyes at the amount of stimulation. It's damn near perfect.

You watch as Petra pulls her fingers out of you and brings them out of the water, eyeing them before slipping them into her mouth. You stare at her, wide eyed.

She pulls them from her mouth with a pop, “That was lovely, don't you think?”

You don't say anything as she unplugs the drain and stands up, reaching her hand out to you. You take it and stand with her.

~*~*~*~

“You aren't uncomfortable, are you?” She asks, grabbing a towel and wrapping it around you.

“No.” You answer honestly.

She's smiling again, “I'm glad… because I have a bit of a proposition for you.”

She takes the extra step of drying your body for you. You then hold the towel around your body as you watch her dry herself off. Even performing the simple task, she is absolutely mesmerizing.

Taking your hand once again, she steps from the tub and you follow. She then leads you out of the bathroom and through the bedroom to her closet, where she pulls out a robe and helps you into it before putting one on herself.

“Come sit with me.” She says, walking toward a pristine, white loveseat in the middle of the room.

The two of you sit down, she's crossed her legs toward you and has one arm draped over the back of the sofa.

“I suppose you're curious as to what sort of job I have for you here.” She says.

You nod silently.

She's smiling once again, “I talked it over with my husband and we had a few things in mind, but I'm pretty sure you just helped me make the final decision.”

She reaches out and takes your hand in hers. Her fingers are still a bit pruny from being in the bath, but her skin is still so soft.

“We have been looking for someone to… how do I put this. Relieve some stress in our lives.” She tells you, “And after spending time with you, I must say, I feel much more relaxed.”

You can feel yourself blushing again and she lets out a soft laugh as she brings her hand to your face, rubbing her thumb across your cheek.

“You're quite adorable you know.” She tells you, “I'm sure this is all very new for you, and you must have many questions. If you want, you are free to ask them.”

You swallow the knot in your throat, “W-why me?... N-not that I'm not flattered…”

“I won't lie, I've had some fun with some of the monsters here, and there are a few that I would love to have in here again.” She says, “But I want someone who's specific job is to make me happy. And there's just something about you…”

Her eyes drag their gaze all over you once again.

“...From the moment I saw you at the warehouse, I knew I'd want you in my bed.”

You can't stop the shudder that runs through your body.

“Any other questions?”

“What all will I be doing?” You ask.

“That is a good question. I suppose whatever Charles and I want you to do.” She tells you.

You wince inside, hearing her words reminds you that you have no choice in this, no matter how nice Petra seems. She’s still your owner, and you will have to give into her demands.

“Don’t worry, love.” She says, “You will be well taken care of, I promise.”

The way she looks at you so mischievously, how her hand is now lightly stroking your arm, it’s slightly terrifying, but insanely tempting.

Maybe this whole slave thing won’t be so bad after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short summary: You and Petra do the sex in the bath... that's pretty much it, its nice.
> 
> Comments are always welcome and appreciated!! ❤


	7. A Tinder Moment

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh boy oh boyyy.
> 
> I hope everyone had a great weekend! But it's back to the workday grind!
> 
> Enjoyyy!  
> -Paige

A few days pass and you’re getting more comfortable in your new home. You’ve only been with Petra one night since the first and you’re only slightly eager for the next time she calls you back into her bedroom.

You tell anyone who asks about your job that you’ve become Petra and Charles’ personal assistant, which isn’t a total lie. When you aren’t performing sexual favors, you’re doing anything else they ask of you. You’ve cleaned the entirety of the master bathroom, and you’ve also organized files in Charles’ study.

Speaking of Charles, you figure it’s only a matter of time before he wants something from you as well. You’ve seen the way he’s glanced at you and it makes you wonder what he might be like in the bedroom. You figure it would be a lot different than with Petra, who is very soft-spoken and loves to focus on pleasuring you specifically. 

Today you don’t think you’ll be called back at all, though. It seems like your owners are busy, and you’re spending most of the day helping Papyrus around the house. He’s talking to you a lot about his friends that you’ve never met, specifically Undyne, and his brother, Sans.

Apparently Undyne was the captain of the royal guard underground, and she also taught Papyrus how to cook. He tells you that he has no clue where she is now, and you feel sad for him. As far as Sans, he’s apparently Papyrus’ older brother, but a lot shorter than him. 

You watch Papyrus’ face as he talks fondly of his brother. About how he loves to aggravate him with constant puns and play pranks on everyone. Papyrus’ far off stare saddens you, and you wish there was some way you could help.

“I’m sorry that you got separated from them.” You say to him.

A soft breeze blows through the quiet garden and rustles the tree leaves. Papyrus lets out a sigh.

“I know I will see them again. No matter how long it takes.” He tells you, “I’m not worried about Undyne, she can take care of herself. But Sans…”

You pull your feet up onto the small brick wall the two of you are sitting on, crossing them and turning to face Papyrus.

“He’s strong, but he holds things in until he ends up breaking down on himself.” He says, “He never wants to ask anyone for help, and I’m just worried that this whole things is eating away at him.”

In a moment of bravery, you reach your hand out and lay it ever so gently on his forearm. He looks over in surprise, his eyes moving from your hand to your face.

“___?”

“I, um…” You start.

You let out a squeak as you’re suddenly glomped by the skeleton. At first, panic runs up your spine, but his arms aren’t constricting and you don’t feel like you’re trapped. You settle against him after a few moments and close your eyes.

When was the last time you’d been hugged like this?

“Thank you.” He says. 

Your hand shakes as you bring it up to his back, patting him softly.

“It's no problem.” You tell him.

He lets you go and sits back up, but his hand stays on one of yours and you're a bit surprised at how nice it feels.

“I'm glad you're here.” Papyrus says suddenly, “I feel like you're already a good friend.”

You blink a few times. Friends?

Going into this whole slave thing, friendship was the last thing you expected to find. But, even in just the few short days of being at the mansion, you feel that that word fits well with Papyrus.

You meet his eyes.

“Yeah.” You say.

He's smiling again, “Would you like to hear more about my time underground?”

You nod and can't keep the smile off your face as he starts rambling excitedly about his old home in Snowdin.

\---

It's the end of the day and you're getting ready for bed. Petra hadn't called you into her room at all, but she did surprise you with some new clothes. You stand and look at yourself in the mirror. You've never had such a nice pair of pajamas. They're red silk pants with a button up top to match, the ends of the sleeves and pants are trimmed with black lace and you almost feel like crying as you admire them.

Papyrus sits on his bed and watches you.

“You look happy.” He says.

You turn and face him. He isn't wrong, you do feel happier than you have in quite a while.

“I've never had nice things.” You tell him, “My family was pretty poor.”

Papyrus tilts his head, “You haven't spoken about your family.”

Memories come flooding back. Happier times as well as the bad. You walk over to Papyrus’ bed and sit down next to him.

“They died a while back.” You decide to tell him, “...in a house fire.”

You bite your tongue. Should you have told him? 

He gasps, “THAT’S WHY- NYEH!”

You whip your head to look at him, his collar flashes and he grabs at it, wincing.

“Papyrus?”

“S-sorry.” He says, “I forgot about my volume… I was going to say, that's why you're afraid of Grillby.”

You nod in response to his statement, but you're looking at him closely to make sure he's really alright. He meets your eyes and smiles sympathetically.

“Don't worry, friend. The collar isn't that painful.” He tells you.

You're pretty sure he's lying just a bit. 

“How does it work?” You ask him, “They never explained it to me.”

“It's connected to my magic.” He says, “If I'm given an order, my magic automatically tries to make me follow it… if I try to disobey, it forces me.”

“That's terrible.” You say.

He eyes the collar around your neck, “How does yours work, since you don't have magic?”

“I… I don't know.” You say, your hand going to your collar automatically. 

There's a bout of silence where fear eats at your mind… what will happen if you try to disobey an order? 

You're not sure you want to find out.

“Do you think you'll always be afraid of Grillby?” Papyrus asks, going back to the original subject.

Thinking of the fire monster terrifies you, but you know it isn't his fault you're like this.

“I don't know.” You say quietly.

“I'm sorry about what happened to you and your family.” He says.

You try to fight back tears, but they're beginning to blue your vision. You look away from Papyrus and wipe at them.

“It's not your f-fault.” You mumble.

He rubs your back and you don't flinch at all. You swallow the lump in your throat and close your eyes tight until you can force the tears away.

“Is there anything I can do?” He asks.

“N-no, it's okay, Papyrus.” You say, “Th-thank you for being here.”

“Of course! What are friends f-”

The two of you jump as the door to the room swings open. Charles walks in, looking around the room before his eyes finally fall on you. 

“You.” He says, pointing at you, “Come with me.”

You stand and glance back at Papyrus, whose face is a mixture of worry and confusion. You waste no time in following Charles, for fear of what might happen if you disobey.

He is silent as the two of you walk down the stairs and cross under the staircase to one of the lengthy hallways running through the mansion. You quickly become aware that you're headed for his study and you wonder if you had done something wrong when you were organizing it.

He opens the door to the study and pulls you in before closing the door behind the two of you. He turns to face you, it's difficult to read his expression, and you aren't sure if he's angry with you or not.

He leans against the wall, crossing his arms lazily, “My wife informed me that she did, in fact, give you a very specific job, yes?’

You nodded, still feeling small under his gaze. The room is dim, but you can see the corner of his mouth lift slightly.

“Good, good.” He says to himself, “I'm pleased at that. Petra has a good eye for pets and, well… you are no exception.”

You gulp and take a step backward, but he merely smiles and takes one forward. 

“It's been awhile since we've had a human.” He says, closing the gap between the two of you, “I've become quite bored of monsters, and there's something about a human slave that's so intriguing.”

The moonlight from the windows shines on his face, the look in his eyes is one of greed and lust, and you don't know how you feel about this.

His hand reaches up to touch your face, much like Petra does with you, only his hands aren't as soft as hers.

“How are you feeling right now?” He asks.

Your mouth feels dry as you try to speak.

“Answer me.” He tells you.

It’s an order, and your collar vibrates against your neck as a warning.

“S-scared.” You tell him truthfully.

He chuckles darkly, “It’s healthy to have a little bit of fear. It helps remind you of your place in the world.”

That doesn’t make you feel better at all. You start to shrink away, but his other hand grasps your shirt and pulls you to him. His dark eyes bore into yours and you gulp once more.

“I’d tell you not to worry, but… We did just establish that you probably should.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter will definitely have some trigger warnings, just letting yall know.


	8. Fighting Fire with Fire*

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First off, please check out some amazing fanart from my good friend [RIGHT HERE!](https://fitofpaige17.tumblr.com/post/168504850919/i-just-want-to-share-again-the-amazing-up-in)
> 
>  
> 
> WARNING: FIRST SCENE IS NON-CON! ~*~*~ separates the scene from the second, which is an important scene to the story, and is safe :)
> 
> This is the first noncon scene I've ever written and it made me feel sick. Saying 'enjoy' just feels wrong >. <
> 
> The second scene is something that saves the chapter, if I do say so myself.
> 
> -Paige

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

 

You find yourself pushed up against a wall, his hands are under your shirt, groping your breasts roughly. He's kissing his way up your neck and your head is spinning.

“I wish I had been here the first day you were with Petra.” He whispers into your ear, “Would've loved to have seen you two… and possibly join in.”

You don't really know how to feel about this. He's not hurting you, but you feel like he might. There's the faint scent of alcohol on his breath and you wonder how much he's been drinking.

You let out a yelp as he rips open your new silk top, pulling down your pants and underwear immediately after. You stand shivering, naked in front of him. His eyes travel over your body and you feel uncomfortable at the smile he gives you.

His hand suddenly reaches up into your hair and he grabs a fistful before shoving you down to the floor. You catch yourself on your elbows and push up to where you're sitting on your knees. You hear the undoing of his belt and zipper and you freeze.

“Look at me.”

Your collar vibrates again and you look up at him, his erect cock is already pulled from his boxers and you know what he wants.

“Be a good pet and take care of this.” He says.

You hate the way you feel as you're forced to take him into your mouth. He lets out a lustful groan and you're disgusted with yourself. He has his hand tangled in your hair as he thrusts himself in and out of your mouth at a calm pace, like he wants to take his time with you.

“I'm a little jealous my wife got to you before I did.” He says with a grunt, “I was hoping I'd be the first to wreck you.”

He sheathes himself completely into your mouth, hitting the back of your throat and causing you to gag. He lets out a laugh and pulls back only to do it again even harder. He then picks up the pace and tears begin to prick at the corners of your eyes.

“Not that… she wrecked you at all.” He says, “She was much too… soft with you.”

He pulls you off of him quickly and you cry out as he pulls you up to standing by your hair.

“Wasn't she?” He asks.

You can't find your voice as you look at him. He looks downright predatorial now with his eyes narrowed and his grin wide.

He pushes you toward his desk and you stumble, just barely catching yourself before your face hit the dark wood. He's behind you suddenly, forcing you down over the desk, pressing the side of your head against it.

You whimper as you feel his fingers at your entrance. He lets out a laugh as he slips one inside.

“You are a dirty little whore, aren't you?” He says, “I'm sure you don't even want this, but your body is practically begging for it.”

Tears begin to spill from your eyes silently. You hate yourself, you hate how wet you are and how badly you want something inside of you.

He lines himself up to your hole and pushes inside to the hilt. He lets out a guttural groan and his cock twitches inside of you. It burns and you let out a whine. He tightens his grip on your hair.

“You make a sound and you'll regret it.”

It isn't an order, but the threat rings loud and clear. You bite your lip as he begins to move, dragging along your walls at an agonizing pace.

“Petra was right about you.” He says, his breathing becoming laboured, “You feel absolutely _amazing._ ”

You cringe. This isn't what you wanted at all. This isn't how it was with Petra. She was gentle and caring, always asking if what she was doing was okay.

You thought when she said that you'd be taking care of them both, that he'd just want to have casual sex with you as well.

This is anything but casual. This is absolutely unwanted.

He speeds up and thrusts harder, the pain has subsided now and you try to ignore the fact that it's actual feeling pleasurable.

Goddammit, how can your body just betray you like this.

“You're going to learn, pet.” he says, yanking at your hair once again, “That we can do anything with you that we want.”

Tears pour down your cheeks as he pounds into you. Your body is beginning to shake, on the verge of orgasm.

“We can be as gentle… or as rough… as we want.” He tells you, “And you're going to learn to love it.”

His movements become sporadic and he leans forward over you, bracing himself against the desk with his hands.

Your eyes roll back at the sheer amount of stimulation inside your pussy. This isn't right, you shouldn't be enjoying this. But as he throws his head back and moans, your body responds by clamping down on him and riding out your own orgasm alongside his.

He gives a few weak thrusts and pulls out, stepping back to admire his work.

“Get up.” He demands, “Put your clothes back on.”

At the warning from your collar, you do as he says, trying to ignore the fluids running down your legs. You pull on your panties and pants, but don't bother buttoning back up the shirt as you wrap it around yourself.

Charles faces you again, a smirk on his lips.

“I hope you enjoyed yourself, sweetheart.” He says, reaching out to run a finger over one of your still hardened nipples, “Because this is only a taste of what's to come.”

He steps over to the door and opens it.

“Now, get out of my sight.” He says.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

* * *

 

You run out of the room and sprint down the hall as fast as your legs can take you. You feel sick at your stomach and your entire body is shaking.

You bolt into the nearest bathroom and slam the door behind you. Dropping to your knees in front of the toilet you immediately puke, the vomit burning your throat and mouth on the way up.

Unable to stop it now, you wail into the bowl, crying louder than you have in years.

Why did this have to happen? You thought this was a good household, all the monsters seem happy. Do any of them have to deal with this?

You want to tell Petra, but you think that she must know about Charles’ behavior, so it probably wouldn't be wise…

No, you shouldn't tell anyone about this. It will only lead to more trouble.

With nothing else in your stomach, you're left dry heaving into the toilet.

It had been such a wonderful day… How did it come to this?

Through your crying you hear a knock on the door and your name being called in an unfamiliar voice. You don't answer, but the person knocks again.

“I don't want to hurt you.” The voice says.

“Who are you?” You ask, your voice hoarse.

There's a sigh and a stretch of silence before you get your answer.

“Grillby.” He says.

A powerful shiver wracks your body. Panic begins to build inside of you.

“G-grillby?”

“I know you are afraid.” He says softly, “But I only want to help you.”

The monster made of fire wants to… help?

“I d-don’t think you can help me.” You say on the verge of tears once again.

“I'd like to at least try.” He says after a moment of silence.

You crawl toward the bathroom door and sit in front of it.

“I can't…” You say, your voice trembling, “I'm afraid of fire.”

“I know.” He says, “Will it help if you keep your eyes closed?”

You think on it. If he really does want to help, would it be smart of you to say no?

You look back at the toilet… You really don't want to be alone with your thoughts right now.

“I-I can try.” You tell him.

You close your eyes and let him know. The door opens and your heart beats fast as you sense him kneeling in front of you.

“Is it okay if I touch your arm?” He asks.

You hesitate, “Will it… will it hurt?”

“No.” He says.

You nod and do your best not to think about him as fire, but as just another monster in the house.

His hand touches your arm and it feels pleasantly warm. He rubs your forearm gently as he tries to calm you down.

“Are you in pain?” He asks.

“I… I don't know.” You say, on the verge of tears again.

“Hm… Is it alright if I carry you to the sofa?” He asks, “The floor can't be too comfortable.”

“I c-can walk.” You say.

You reach up to the counter and begin to pull yourself up, but just as you are about to stand, your already-weak legs give out and you go tumbling forward against Grillby. You wonder if he might have been expecting this, since his arms seemed to be ready to catch you.

You see a flash of orange as you forget to hold your eyes shut for a split second. You let out a whimper and close them tightly once again.

You don't protest as he scoops you up into his arms and begins to carry you. You find yourself being too tired to even attempt to struggle, so you lean against him and let your body relax.

To be made of actual fire, he doesn't feel unbearably hot at all. It feels more like sitting in front of a fireplace on a cold winter's day than anything.

You almost feel sad when he sits you on the sofa. He kneels in front of you again and you feel his hand lay on your arm once more.

“Do you mind me healing you?”

Your brows furrow, “Heal?”

“You're hurt.” He says, “I can heal physical ailments.”

You frown, “How?”

“Healing magic.” He tells you, “It only requires me to place my hand over your heart.”

You tune into your body and begin to feel the pain he is talking about. Your head is killing you, your throat burns, your legs ache, and your…

“O-okay.” You tell him.

You take a deep breath and let it out as his palm is placed against your chest. There's a warm feeling that begins to spread from his hand to your body. The tension you were feeling moments ago begins to fade a bit.

You gasp quietly as you feel the pain ease up all over. Your curiosity starts to get the better of you and you crack your eyes open slightly to look down at his hand.

Holding your breath, you take in the sight of his hand. It definitely looks like fire, and a flitter of panic runs through you as you take it in, but you try to focus on the fact that he is actually helping you.

Closing your eyes once again, you take in another deep breath. It isn't long before he takes his hand back and, physically, you feel a lot better.

“That should help with any injuries.” He says, “It just… doesn't help with the mental pain… I'm sorry.”

“It's… okay.” You say, though you both know it's really not. “Thank you.”

“I'm glad I was able to help.” He says, “I'm sorry.”

There's a stretch of silence where you aren't sure of what to say. You know what he's saying sorry for, you just aren't sure why.

How had he known what happened? Had he heard? Did he see you go into the study?

Another knot grew in your throat and you were thankful when he spoke again.

“Do you want to go back to your room? I can take you.”

You nod and he picks you up again. Though he's healed your physical pain, your mental exhaustion consumes you as you relax in his arms and you pass out before any more tears can fall.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Summary: Charles is an asshole who likes to abuse his slaves.
> 
> Grillby is a saint.


	9. Caught in the Crossfire

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> STAR WARS IS TONIGHT AND IM SO EXCITE!
> 
> Also, I hope y'all are ready, because shit is 'bout to get interesting!
> 
> Enjoyyy!  
> -Paige

You didn’t tell Papyrus exactly what had happened in the study, but only that it was bad. He hadn’t seemed as surprised as you thought he might, and it made you wonder if he knew things about Charles, or if he just had his own suspicions about him.

You ended up telling him about Grillby healing you, and that you caught a glimpse of his arm and didn’t totally freak out. He was extremely excited over this, telling you how proud he was of you being so brave.

...And now he wants you to try and actually become friends with Grillby.

The thought is nice, but you let him know that you aren’t sure about that yet. At the moment, though, you can at least rest easy knowing that the fire monster is kind and helpful.

It’s been 2 days since you were… since the incident, and you haven’t spoken to Petra about it at all, and she thankfully hasn’t called you into her room to sleep with her… though you’d be lying if you said you didn’t crave her gentle touch.

But today she is taking you out to the mall, and you’re pretty excited. Not only about getting out of the house, but about spending some one-on-one time with her again. You keep having to remind yourself that you are her property, but that doesn’t mean you can’t enjoy the time you spend with her, right?

You’re sitting in the passenger seat of her car. There’s a today’s hits station playing on the radio and Petra is driving. She sings a little, and then she’ll talk to you some. Either way, you find her voice lovely.

“So, were there any places in particular you wanted to go today?” She asks you, “Any items you’ve been wanting to get?”

You think for a moment, “I’m not sure, really.”

She smiles, “Well that just means we get to have you try on a lot of things! This should be fun!”

You agree with her. It’s been a long time since you’ve had anything nice, and she seems more than willing to get you whatever your heart desires. 

Usually you'd feel bad about people spending a lot of money on you, but after what happened the other night, you don't really mind. In fact, a part of you feels like you deserve something nice.

Petra parks the car in the crowded lot and the two of you get out. You look up at the enormous building in awe. You've never been to this mall, because you've never really had the money to spend in any of the stores.

“Come on, darling.” Petra says, “Let's start with my favorite clothing store.”

You walk around the side of the car and follow her. She approaches the doors to a fancy-looking department store and opens it for you, which feels a little strange, considering she's your owner.

The lights of the store are bright and the smell of floral perfumes surrounds you. For a moment, you feel like a normal, free individual.

“What would you like to look at first?” Petra asks.

“Sweaters” you say immediately.

She smiles, “Good idea! It's starting to get colder outside, some sweaters are definitely a must.”

The two of you walk over to the women's clothing section first.

“I know you don't really identify with a certain gender.” She says, “So we can look at both women's and men's clothing if you prefer.”

You smile, “Thank you.”

You begin to look through the racks of winter-wear. You grab a few that appeal to you so you can try them on. You're a little surprised when Petra also grabs a couple, holding them up to you and asking for your opinion.

“I think this one would look great on you!” She tells you, “And this one! Honestly, you could pull any of these off!”

You feel yourself blushing, “Y-you think?”

She nods, “Yes! Did you want to try on all of them?”

“Maybe.” You say, looking over all the tops the two of you picked out.

Petra scoops them all into her arms, “Come on! Let's try them out!”

She leads you over to where the changing rooms are and begins talking with the sales associate. You notice them look over at you and then back to Petra.

“Slaves must be accompanied by their owner in the fitting rooms.” You hear them say.

Ouch.

“I plan to try on some things as well, so that will be fine.” Petra says.

You feel the worker's eyes on you as you follow Petra into a large fitting room. You wonder if they are worried about you stealing, or if they're just disgusted by a human slave.

Petra hangs up all the clothes and turns to you, “I think we're around the same size… I think I'll try on some of these as well.”

With that, she takes off her top. She's wearing a red, lacy bra that provides her breasts with cleavage so enticing that you have to tear your eyes away and focus on the sweaters.

You go ahead and take off your t-shirt and grab one of the sweaters. It's really soft and has a beautiful argyle pattern running around it. You pull it on and look in the mirror.

“Oh, that fits you well!”

You look at Petra, who has put on a tight sweater with a wintery scene stitched into it. You're pretty sure she would look stunning in anything she puts on. 

“I think you should get that one.” She says, reaching out to run her hand along your side.

You smile and take it off so you can try on the others.

 

You and Petra end up buying a few bags full of clothes and other items before sitting down in the food court to eat. You can't help but be a little surprised that she chooses to eat somewhere so cheap and basic when she likes to splurge on everything else.

She sits down in the booth and lets out a large sigh.

“Ahh, it feels nice to sit down.” She looks at you, “Do you mind picking up my food for me, love?”

The two of you had already ordered and had been given your receipts with meal numbers on them. You nod to her and take her receipt before walking back over to the food stand.

As you wait, you glance around. You've seen many monster slaves with their owners today, and many of them have looked at you with confusion. Perhaps human slaves aren't as common as you think. 

You’re also getting nasty looks from quite a few humans. It gives you anxiety and you try to ignore it, but you begin to hear whispering. At first you don’t think it’s about you, a lot of people are talking amongst each other, but you can hear specific things…

_ “A human slave?” _

_ “What a waste of space.” _

_ “Pathetic.” _

_ “Who’s her owner?” _

You bite your lip and try to focus on anything else. You’re thankful when the person at the counter finally calls your number. You pick up the food and dash back to the booth where Petra is sitting.

“Thank you, dear.” She says as you sit down, “Let’s see, you ordered a… ___ are you alright?”

You’re shaking slightly, mind still reeling. You look to Petra with wide eyes and she frowns.

“Did something happen?” She asks.

“It’s just… I…”

You don’t know how to tell her that you feel ashamed. You became a slave to survive, you did what you had to do, but you still feel dirty.

“Love, did someone say something to you?” She asks.

“Not… to me.”

She looks upset and reaches across the table, holding out her hand. You place your hand in hers and she squeezes.

“It’s okay.” She assures you, “None of these people here matter. The only thing that matters right now is you and me, yeah?”

“Y-yeah.” You sputter, “Okay.”

She gives a weak smile and keeps holding your hand as she passes you your food with the other.

“Here, eat before it gets cold. The we can shop some more!”

You return her smile and take your food, enjoying the warmth and softness of her hand as you eat.

\--

Grillby stands in the sitting area, talking to Papyrus. Papyrus is excited about the fact that he helped you the other night without you having a panic attack. He’s hopeful that you will soon be able to hang out with Grillby.

Grillby can’t help but smile at Papyrus’ optimism. He doesn’t realize that trauma situations don’t work like that, these things take time, but Grillby stays quiet and lets him continue talking his metaphorical ears off.

That is, until the front door opens and he sees Petra step inside. Knowing that you went out with her, Grillby slips back into the dining area, out of view. He doesn’t want the first thing you see when you walk in to be something you’re terrified of.

He can hear Papyrus greeting you, and Petra tells him a little about the outing today. She speaks to you then, telling you to take your things to you and Papyrus’ room. Grillby waits until you’re back upstairs to peer around the corner to where Petra and Papyrus are still talking.

“There were a lot of people staring and talking about them.” He hears Petra say.

Papyrus frowns, “Why? Because of the collar?”

Petra nods, “Just… make sure to keep an eye on them, yeah?”

Papyrus nods and starts upstairs. Grillby steps back out into the open and Petra turns to him.

“Eavesdropping are we?” She smirks.

“What is so special about them?” He asks.

Her smirk falls, “What do you mean?”

Grillby crosses his arms, “You’re a lot nicer to them than you ever were to any of us.”

Her mouth is set in a hard line, she’s clearly frustrated.

“It’s more than an act this time.” He says more quietly.

She scowls, “I don’t know what you’re getting at.”

Grillby pulls up his sleeve to reveal multiple ‘scars.’ Charred bits where flames used to be.

“Did you forget already?”

Petra turns on her heel and faces the back of the house.

“I don’t appreciate your tone, Grillby.” She looks over her shoulder at him, “You will not talk to me like that again.”

The collar around Grillby’s neck vibrates as she walks away, sealing her command within his magic.


	10. Hot Under the Collar

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guess who put in their notice at work? THIS GIRL! I told them I will work until January 6th, only because I know the first of the year is going to be busy and I want to help because I love most everyone there.
> 
> I haven't written in a few days, so I'm really glad I have a few chapters already done so I can continue publishing stuff on time :) Will definitely have to do some writing today though!
> 
> I hope you all enjoy this chapter!
> 
> -Paige

Grillby sits on the edge of his bed alone in his room. He rubs his hands over the scars on his arms, remembering each one as if they had just happened. 

He tilts his head up and looks into the large mirror on his wall. He looks just as he always has. The flames atop his head flicker normally, his eyes shine bright behind his glasses. The only thing different is the scars.

That and the emotional hell he's been through. 

He hates this place to its very core, yet… he doesn't know if he could leave if he ever got the chance. This is his home, it's been his home for years now and it's too familiar to just leave.

...Not that Petra or Charles would ever let him. And could he really just leave Papyrus? No, he can't do that to Sans.

_ Sans _

He lets out a heavy sigh and rests his head in his hands. His thoughts tend to go back to the skeleton monster a lot. He hasn't seen him since the humans split the monsters up to sell them as slaves. He tries not to think about him, but it's nearly impossible.

The last time they were together, things weren't great between the two of them. Grillby had been trying to keep hope that the humans weren't all bad, he tried to keep his friends’ spirits high, but Sans wasn't having it. He was angry, understandably, and he didn't trust humans one bit. Grillby sometimes wonders if he had ever truly trusted Frisk.

And then Frisk comes to his mind. What happened to them? Did they also become a slave? 

Grillby doesn't want to think about what the other option might've been for them. He hopes they're safe somewhere, even if it means they're technically ‘owned’ by someone like he is.

Same with Sans, they might have fought for being separated, but he would never wish harm on him. Maybe he's with nice humans…

Thinking of humans has steered his thoughts toward you. You are the first human his owners have brought into the house since he came here. He thought they were strictly into monsters, so when he saw you in the kitchen, he was a little shocked. 

Though he had also been surprised by you fainting, what blew him away was the bravery you had shown a few nights ago. Though he probably shouldn't have been, considering your soul color, he still hadn't expected you to actually let him help you. 

He had to try, though. You were hurt. 

He only regrets that he couldn't heal the mental anguish that comes with that kind of abuse.

Grillby lays back on his bed, staring up at the ceiling, still thinking about you… and how Petra seems completely enamored with you. He isn't upset at you over it though, it isn't your fault that she treats you so nicely. 

Hell, you probably don't even know what she's really like. You surely think she's the best owner you could've ever been chosen by.

Of course, he knows it could've been much worse. There are terrible, disgusting humans out there who would do much worse. At least here, everyone is well fed and clothed…

Though that doesn't  make abuse acceptable.

But what can he do?

Grillby pulls his legs up onto the bed and scoots over to where he can lay his head on the pillow. He reaches over and turns off his lamp before doing his best to relax and slip into a deep, and hopefully dreamless, sleep.

 

* * *

 

You wake with a start. Your heart is pounding in your chest, your skin slick with sweat.

You aren't sure what exactly the nightmare was about, but you feel terrified. You don't want to be alone.

Slipping out of bed, you make sure to quietly step across the hardwood of the floor over to where Papyrus was sleeping. A week ago, you wouldn't have dared bother anyone with your problems, but you're feeling more comfortable with the tall skeleton now.

And at the moment, comfort is what you need most. 

You reach out and gently lay your hand on his upper arm bone. Not wanting to startle him, you whisper his name and shake him ever so slightly.

“Nyeh?” He murmurs, turning his head toward you, “___, is something wrong?”

“I'm sorry for waking you.” You tell him, “It's just… I'm not sleeping well.”

Papyrus rolls his body around to face you and props himself up on his elbow.

“Are you having nightmares?” He asks.

“Y-yeah.” You say, “I can't remember what about but it scares me.”

He nods understandably and scoots back against the wall, holding up his covers and gesturing for you to lay down. You crawl up onto the bed and relax next to him. 

“You know, my brother used to have bad nightmares. Especially after we got to the surface.” He says, releasing the cover down onto you.

“Yeah?... What about?”

“You know, he'd always say he either couldn't remember, or that it was about something stupid.” He tells you, “Until one of the last nights I was with him. He had a really bad one, and we both knew I'd be leaving soon, so he actually told me.”

“What did he say?” You ask.

“He told me it was about losing me, and not just me going away, but me turning to dust.” He notices your slight confusion, “Monsters turn to dust when we die.”

“Oh, I think I remember hearing something about that.” You mumble, “So he dreamt about you dying?”

He nods, “Yes. I tried to assure him I'd be fine, but he pressed on, saying that it's happened before… but I didn't understand that part.”

“Maybe he meant he dreamed about it before?”

“I thought the same, but he said that it was a different timeline or something.” He shakes his head, “I still don't understand, but he told me that he had to find Frisk. He told me to keep an eye out for them as well.”

“Frisk…” You think aloud, “Isn't that… isn't that the kid who freed you all?”

“Yes, that's our Frisk.” He says, “I don't know why exactly Sans is looking for them, but he told me that if I find them before he does, to make them ‘reset’”

“Reset?” You echo him.

“That's what he told me. He wouldn't go into detail, said that that was all I needed to know.” He frowns, “I feel like, if we'd had more time, he would've explained it. I think he was trying to protect me, though. He's always been like that.”

You lay your hand on top of Papyrus’s. It's something that you have found seems to comfort both of you a bit.

“He sounds like a good brother.” You tell him, “He shouldn't have kept you in the dark, but I'm sure he did what he thought was best.”

There's a slight smile on Papyrus’ face. “I'm certain he was, I just… I miss him.”

“I know you do, Pap.” You say, squeezing his boney hand, “Hopefully you'll get to see him again, sooner than you think.”

“I hope so.” He says, his voice quivering, “___, did you have any siblings?”

You lay your head back into the pillow and stare up at the ceiling, “I had a little brother. He was such a good kid.”

“If he was anything like you, I'm sure he was.” Papyrus tells you.

Your eyes start to tear up, but you don't wipe them. “He was better than me. Smarter too…”

The warm tears spill over the sides of your face.

“I should've been the one to die in that fire, not him.” 

Papyrus pulls his hand from yours to wrap his arm around you. He hugs you to him and rests his skull against your head.

“I don't think anyone should've died.” He says, “It's so sad, what happened to your family. I'm so sorry.”

“Thank you, Papyrus.” You whisper, “I'm sorry I'm such a mess.”

“You're not a mess!” He exclaims, rather shocked at your words, “You're a wonderful human, and I'm glad you are here… Nyehh… though I wish it could be under better circumstances.” 

You sniff, “Yeah. I wish you guys were free.”

“Me too.” He says, “But don't let sir and missus know that. They may get angry.”

“I agree.” You tell him, “It's probably best to keep it between us for now.”

You let out a soft sigh and relax as much as possible. You feel better than when you first woke up, but now you’re worrying for different reasons.

You wish so badly that you could help Papyrus find his brother, but that’s impossible, at least right now. Maybe one day the circumstances will be different, but at the moment, you were both stuck here as slaves.

You just hope his brother is okay.

“I think I’m alright now.” You say to Papyrus, “I can probably go back to my own bed.”

“Nonsense!” He tells you, “You will stay right here and let the great Papyrus keep those bad dreams away!”

You don’t even try to fight the smile that spreads across your face. You feel very lucky to have ended up with such a cool roommate… Though you can’t help but wonder if he’s wanting you to stay so he can comfort you or himself.

Hell, maybe it’s both.

You cuddle up against him, his bones not feeling nearly as uncomfortable as you would’ve imagined. He’s warm and protective, and you feel safe.

“Goodnight, Pap.” You say.

He hugs you tightly.

“Sleep well, ___.”


	11. Like a Moth to a Flame

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you're all enjoying the story so far! :D <333 Thanks for sticking around!
> 
> -Paige

Charles sits down on the bed, smoking his cigarette and just staring off into nowhere. Meanwhile, Petra is laying beside him, reading whatever romance novel she's chosen for the week.

Sex between the both of them is good, it always has been. Petra is a fucking goddess in his eyes, and he's pretty sure she has some sort of worshipping kink when it comes to him.

Yet, he can't help but feel almost threatened by your presence here. Sure, he and Petra have a pretty open relationship, and are allowed to mess with any of their ‘pets’ as they please, but you’ve seemed to change things in the week and a half you've been in their custody.

Once Petra found out about his little romp with you, she tried to brush it off like she was okay with it. It was nothing new, after all. But she has felt rather distant in the past few days. She doesn't really want to talk to him much, and when she does, it isn't for long.

She's angry, Charles can feel it. She doesn't like what he's done to you… but it doesn't make any sense to him. If he had fucked any of the other slaves, she wouldn't act like this.

“What are you thinking about?” Petra breaks the silence.

Charles looks over at her. Her pale skin shining in the moonlight flooding their room. Her green eyes glide from her book to him.

“I was just thinking about our newest pet.” He says.

“Oh?” She raises a brow.

“She's pretty unique, isn't she?” He asks.

“They.” 

“Excuse me?” He says.

She lays her book on her lap, “They.” She corrects, again.

He rolls his eyes, “That's never mattered to you before, why does it matter now?”

“Oh please, Charlie, it's always mattered.” She says, “You've just never bothered to notice before.”

He lets out a ‘hmph’ and relaxes back against the headboard, taking a long drag of his cigarette.

“Why are you so stuck on them, anyway?” She asks.

He glances at her, “I should ask you the same question.”

Petra closes her book completely and sets it on the night stand before turning to him.

“Dearest… Why are you so jealous of me having a little fun?” She asks, “They're new and different. You're welcome to them as well.”

“Am I though? You didn't like it when I was with he-... them the other night.” He says.

She sighs, “Charlie, you're too rough, at least for first time's sake.”

His eyes narrow, “I was just having fun, like you.”

She glares at him, “Okay, but I didn't  _ rape _ them or  _ order _ them to do anything.”

Charles laughs, he can't believe how hypocritical his wife is being.

“Like you haven't done those things to our other pets!”

“Oh please, that's different.” She says, “___ is a human, like us. The others are barely animals at best.”

He looks at her, dumbfounded. Even Charles, as much of an asshole as he knows he is, can see that monsters have qualities much like humans.

“They still feel.” He tells her, “They have emotions just like we do. You've spent enough time with them to be able to see that.”

She doesn't say anything to that, and he knows he's right. Somewhere inside of her, she knows it too.

“Anyway,” She starts, “It sounds like you just need to spend some more time with our new guest. Get to know them a little better.”

“And what do you mean by that?” He asks, intrigued, “You know I'm not one for really ‘getting to know’ a person… well, except for you.”

She smirks, “I just mean, instead of bending them over a desk and fucking their brains out, maybe you should at least do something nice for them.”

“And what might you suggest?”

She hums as she thinks for a moment, “Well, you could actually try talking with them. Show them you aren't a  _ complete _ creep.”

“Ha, so you want me to lie!” He laughs.

She giggles, “Come on, Charlie, you can go one night without forcing yourself on the poor thing, I'm sure.”

“Oh yeah? And then what?... I bring them back here?”

She smiles, her eyelids heavy as she raises her eyebrows, “Maybe…”

He shrugs, “I guess I could try that. But what should I be expecting to get out of… besides the bedroom fun?”

“Just from my experience, I find that knowing more about the person makes the sex more… interesting.” She says.

“Yeah? And what do you know about them?” He asks.

“Well if you read their papers, you would know a lot more.” She tells him, “For instance, they don't have any living family that they know of. They were homeless for years before turning themselves over.”

“Aaand, how is knowing all this going to make sex better?” He asks, brows knitted in confusion.

She chuckles, “Oh Charlie… They  _ need _ someone. Someone to understand them and comfort them. They need to be taken care of… and that's where we come in.”

Something in Charles’ head clicks, “Ohh, I see what you're getting at.”

“Exactly.” Petra says. 

Charles puts out the remainder of his cigarette in the ashtray on his nightstand and scoots underneath the covers.

“So… do you know what happened to their family?” He asks.

“It didn't specify in their papers, but I'm wondering if it has something to do with fire.” Petra says, “They panicked when they first saw Grillby, muttering about fire before passing out. And they do their absolute best to not be in the same room with him, ever.”

“Hmm.” He says, pondering the information that his wife has just given him.

“Interesting…”

 

* * *

 

You're standing in the dining room alone, having just finished eating. You don't want to leave the dishes for someone else to clean up, even if it is their ‘job.’

You look at the door leading to the kitchen, hesitant about actually opening it. You don't want a repeat of last time you walked in there. Grillby might have said it was okay, but you still felt bad about panicking over him.

Still, he helped you the other night. He was there for you when you really needed someone, and though you kept your eyes closed mostly, you didn't freak out.

You lay your hand on the door… maybe you can do this.

Slowly, you push it open and peer inside. You can't see anyone immediately, so you open it a bit further.

There's a flash of orange and the clang of a pot against one of the sinks. Your heart is pounding in your chest, but you do your best to keep your breath even.

There's no real fire here, only Grillby. He won't hurt you… at least you don't think he will.

“G-Grillby?” You speak aloud as you take another step in.

“In the back.” You hear him call from out of sight, “I'm sorry, I didn't realize you were coming back here.”

“It's okay.” You say, “I um… I didn't want to leave my dishes on the table, so I thought I'd bring them back here.”

“Oh, you can just leave them on one of the counters. I can take care of it.” He says.

You frown. You hate the fact that he needs to hide from you, though you understand it's probably for the best.

You walk over to the sink and set your dirty dishes next to it. You see the pot he must have been holding on top of other dishes.

“Were you washing dishes?” You decide to ask, “I didn't mean to interrupt.”

“No, I uh… I don't wash the dishes.” He tells you, “I was just putting them in the sink for now.”

“Oh…” it dawns on you, “Oh god, of course you don't wash the dishes, you're made of  _ fire _ .”

You hear him chuckle and you can't help but smile.

“S-sorry.” You mumble, feeling your face heat up.

“It's quite alright.” He says.

There's a stretch of silence, you walk over to the door that leads to the backroom, where you know Grillby is probably standing just on the other side.

“I-”

You pause, you want to apologize for him having to basically hide away, but you aren't sure how to word it.  _ Sorry for having PTSD triggered by fire  _ isn't really a good apology.

“Grillby?” You say.

“Yes, ___?”

You bite your lip, are you sure about what you're thinking? What you're about to ask?

“Can you… stick your hand outside the door?”

More silence.

“My… hand?”

“Y-yeah.” You say, “Your hand.”

The door opens slightly and you take a step back as a literal hand of fire sticks through the crack. You remember seeing it briefly when he healed you the other night, but you'd been too scared to look for more than a second.

You're trying to be more brave today.

Unsure of what exactly to do, he has all his fingers spread out so you can see. It's still pretty scary, but looking at it now, it looks less like the fire you remember from your childhood, and more like the calm flame from a candle. You can't see the lower part of his arm thanks to his long sleeves, but you're left wondering how he doesn't burn his clothing… or anything, really.

“You okay?” Grillby asks after a few moments, probably afraid that you'd passed out again.

“I'm alright.” You tell not only him, but yourself. 

You're sure he hears the shakiness in your voice, so he pulls his hand back out of view.

“Th-thank you.” You tell him.

“Of course.” He says.

It's quiet again, and a little awkward… made worse by the fact that you're still separated by the door.

“Let me know if I can help you out again.” 

You wonder if he's talking about you getting used to fire, or you needing to be healed again.

“I will.” You say, starting to turn around, “Maybe one of these days I'll be able to see your face without fainting.”

There's a warm chuckle again.

“Yeah, maybe.”


	12. Burning Ring of Fire

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And in this chapter, you can see that the author decided to focus on some of the plot XD
> 
> Hope everyone is doing well! Thank you for reading, as always!
> 
> Enjoy!  
> -Paige

Sans sits at the dining table in Toriel’s home in the underground ruins. He's adding up just how many monster slaves they've managed to free so far, and the ones that they've received information on from their human contacts up top.

Whenever he and Tori started this literal ‘underground railroad’ of sorts, he honestly didn't think they would've made as much progress as they have. Surely someone would've ratted them out, stabbed them in the back.

But nobody has… yet anyway.

But no matter how many monsters they've rescued, there's still empty spot in Sans’ soul. He's been looking for his brother since they'd been separated, but has been unable to find him. Normally, he'd be able to sense Papyrus’ soul, but those damn collars block his damn magic.

Sans’ hand automatically goes to his neck where his collar once sat. He had gotten so used to it, it still feels weird not having it there. But he's thankful that he had been able to figure out a way to disable them before any owners were able to report their missing slaves and have them dusted.

Sans jumps slightly when Tori walks in from the kitchen, holding two plates of freshly prepared food.

“Lost in your thoughts again?” She teases.

“heh, yeah.” He says, pushing away his papers to make room for his plate. “thanks.” 

Tori smiles as she sets both plates down before sitting in the chair to Sans’ left.

“How is everything?” She asks.

“well, it’s all looking good… for now.” He says, poking at the casserole with his fork, “we’ve saved four monsters this week alone, which is a new record.”

“I saw the couple that came in last night.” Toriel says, “They were crying, they were so relieved to be back down here.”

Sans nods and takes a bite of his food. Usually he is all for Tori’s cooking, but tonight he barely tastes a thing.

“You saw the message we got from one of our contacts this morning, didn’t you?” Tori asks, “The delivery tomorrow night could be bigger than we expected.”

Sans lets out a sigh, “i just hope it isn’t so big that it draws attention.”

Tori nods in agreement, “As long as everyone keeps quiet, everything should move smoothly.”

The room goes silent once more as they both eat, and Sans knows that Tori is lost in her own thoughts. Most likely about Frisk.

Sans groans internally. They haven’t been able to find Frisk either, and Sans  _ needs  _ to find them. He needs them to reset this mess. The monsters have already lost so much. Their king, their freedom, each other… when will it all end? When everyone is dead?

No, it isn’t fair to any of them, they all deserve another chance at this. Maybe a different timeline will yield different results.

But the kid is smart, surely they have already thought about this. So… why haven’t they reset yet?

“You’re thinking about them, aren’t you?” Toriel asks, breaking Sans’ thought process, “I can tell. Whenever you think about finding them, you get this really serious look on your face and you grip whatever your holding really tightly.”

He hmphs and loosens the grip on his fork, “sorry, it’s just… it’s aggravating that we haven’t been able to pinpoint where they are.”

Tori frowns, “I know, my friend… but we will find them, as well as Papyrus… and Grillby.”

Dammit, does she have to hit  _ that _ nerve? 

“I know the two of you weren’t on great terms when you last saw one another.” She says, noticing his glare, “But that doesn’t change that you obviously still care for him, and I’m sure he still cares for you.”

Sans grumbles, taking another bite of casserole, “he’s probably happier up there with his humans.”

“You don’t know that.” She says, “He could be in trouble… None of us know.”

He can’t help but feel a little bad now. What if Grillby  _ is _ in trouble, and Sans is just sitting there angry at him.

He sighs and goes back to eating his food and trying not to think about anything.

“It’s going to be okay, Sans.” Tori tells him, “We’ll bring them all home.”

\---

You’re sitting in your room, listening to Papyrus explain the backstories of all his action figures, when the door to the room opens up. You’re a little worried at first, thinking back to when Charles had burst into your room before taking you before. But you let out a sigh of relief when you see Petra standing there.

She steps into the room smiling, her black hair in loose curls which bounce lightly as she walks. The soft tip tap of her heels comes to a stop a couple of feet away from you two.

“Papyrus, ___.” She says, “How are you two doing today?”

“We’re doing well, missus!” Papyrus tells her, “I was just telling ___ about how I used to plan out traps and puzzles back underground.”

“Oh, that’s nice!” She smiles at him, “Say, do you mind if I borrow ___ for just a bit?”

Papyrus looks at you, “As long as they are okay with it!”

“Of course!” Petra says, turning to you, “Do you mind coming with me?”

“I-I don’t mind.” You stutter, quickly getting to your feet.

She giggles at your nervousness, “Come along, sweetie. Let’s go downstairs.”

You look back to Papyrus, “I’ll see you in a bit.”

He smiles, “The two of you have a good time!”

You follow Petra out of the room and down the stairs. She asks you about your day as you walk, and it isn’t long before the two of you arrive in the gardens at the back of the mansion.

“It’s been a beautiful day.” She says, looking up at the sky as it’s beginning to change colors, “I wish I would’ve been able to enjoy it more.” 

“Were you really busy?” You ask quietly.

“Yeah, I had a lot of errands to run today.” She says, looking back at you, “But we’re out here now, so at least it isn’t a total loss.”

She smiles and reaches out her open hand, silently asking you to take it. You gently lay your hand into hers and she squeezes it before walking further into the garden.

“So… other than just wanting to spend some time with you, I did bring you out here so we could discuss something privately.” Petra says.

You swallow, your throat suddenly feeling dry. 

“Don’t worry, dear, you are not in trouble.” She smiles at you again, “It’s just that… well, I know that something happened, and I want to make sure that you are alright.”

Your pulse quickens. Does she know about…

You suddenly feel very unclean. You want to pull away from Petra, you don’t feel worthy to even be around her at the moment. 

She notices your fear and reaches to take your other hand. You’re facing her, but you don’t want to look her in the eye, not right now.

“___.” She says your name with such softness, “I need to know that you are okay, love.”

Your eyes sting with unshed tears, you bite your lip and try to hide your face.

“What happened wasn’t your fault.” She whispers.

Try as you might, you can’t stop the sob that escapes you. Petra lets go of your hands to wrap her arms around you and pull you close. Tears runs down your face as you cry against her.

“Shhh, it’s alright now.” She says, petting your hair.

She pulls back and looks you in the eyes, “You have to understand, love… this is not a perfect home.”

You sniff, your brows furrowing, what does she mean?

“I will do my best to protect you here, but…” She frowns, her eyes breaking contact from yours, “I can’t always be there to know what’s going on, and, well…”

She lets out a heavy sigh.

“We  _ both  _ own you, love. Even if you are human, you are still a slave.”

Your heart hurts at her words. How could she just let this thing happen? He’s her husband for fucks sake.

“I know you have to understand that.” She says, smoothing your hair once again, “I have talked to Charles, and he probably won’t try anything like that again. I told him that he mustn’t treat you as he has the others… it’s not right.”

“B-but it’s right for the others?” You blurt out.

She just shakes her head, smirking slightly, “Oh dear… this is something you’ll have to get used to with your new life here. But don’t you worry-”

She leans in and plants a kiss to your temple.

“-You’re special.”

Your head is spinning. In one area of your mind, you have doubts about what she is saying. It just sounds wrong… but the other part is completely enthralled and wants to hear everything she has to say.

“He doesn’t hate you, you know.” Petra says sweetly to you, “He just doesn’t know how to show affection in a way that is… acceptable.”

She’s kissing your neck now, and you’re confused. Why is she still talking about her husband?

“Tell me though, ___.” She says, pulling back and looking into your eyes again, “You’re okay, yeah?”

You hesitate, but eventually nod. She smiles and leans her forehead against yours.

“Good. I’m glad… now, I’ve had a difficult day. What do you say we make our way back to my room before the sun sets and relax, hm?” She purrs.

“Th-that sounds nice.” You sputter.

Her soft laughter rings in your ears as she takes your hand again.

“And love… let’s not talk about that particular event anymore, alright?... and the fact that this conversation took place.” She tells you, “Unless I bring it up, of course.”

“O-okay.”

You’re so captivated by her as you step back into the mansion that you don’t even notice the vibration of your collar against your neck.


	13. Short Fuse

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Merry Christmas Eve Eve! And yes, I will update on Christmas day :D
> 
> The uh... the Christmas day one might not be all jolly though haaaaaaa
> 
> Enjoy!
> 
> -Paige

Charles sits in his study, working on his computer, trying to focus on his business, but… having some issues.

Another week has passed, Petra has spent the majority of her free time with the newest slave, and Charles knows they haven’t just been up late sharing stories in the bedroom.

He really can’t say much about his wife sleeping around, he does a bit of that himself. It’s been like that since the beginning… but it’s different this time. Petra seems to be deliberately avoiding him. 

It makes him angry.

He would love to corner her and get her to tell him what her problem is, but he knows her mind games, and he knows how weak he is for her. It’d be impossible for him to resist her.

But he knows one person who can… or one monster, rather.

There’s a knock on the door and Charles calls for the visitor to enter. He looks up and sees Kiku walking in, closing the door behind her. Her yellow eyes meet his and she smiles, her white fangs shining brightly.

“You called for me, sir?” She speaks.

“Yes, Kiku, please sit down.” He gestures to one of the large chairs in front of his desk.

She nods and steps over silently, her tail automatically moves out of the way as she takes her seat. Charles looks away from his computer and rests his elbows on the desk.

“I need a favor from you.” He starts, “I’m sure you’ve noticed some things going on with my wife, seeing how perceptive you are… am I correct in assuming that?”

She nods, “Yessir. I have noticed that she’s been hanging around the new slave a lot… ___.”

“That she has.” He says, “And it seems that she’s been avoiding me… and everyone else for that matter.”

“Is there something I can do, sir?” Kiku asks, her whiskers twitching slightly.

“Yes, I believe there is.” He says, a smile curling at his lips, “You are the only monster here that is solely owned by me, after all.”

That is the only thing he has to hang over Petra's head. He had purchased Kiku on his own, binding her collar to only his commands, but Petra doesn't know about that, because Kiku has always done whatever Petra asks of her anyway. Petra believes she signed for her, but Charles had faked those papers.

He knew he'd need her to get a leg up on Petra one day.

“I will need you to get any information out of Petra that you can. You  _ will  _ resist her words, you  _ will  _ resist her charms. You will  _ not  _ fall to her little mind tricks, and you will  _ not  _ let her magic touch you.” He tells Kiku plainly. 

He knows her collar is vibrating with every order, and she nods to him.

“Yessir.”

“Good.” He says, “You are a powerful monster, Kiku, I have complete faith in you.”

“Do I have permission to toy with her, sir?” She asks, a sadistic grin on her face.

He matches her smile, “Of course. Do whatever it takes to break her.”

He pushes back from his desk and stands, Kiku stands along with him.

“In the meantime… I shall take care of her little pet.”

 

* * *

 

You do your best not to trip as you carry a heavy load of dirty clothing downstairs to the laundry room. You smiled at Papyrus looking over one of the large plants in the living room as you pass by. He really does enjoy that part of his job here.

The part of your job that you enjoy most is spending time with Petra. Though you know it must look rather strange from an outsider’s point of view, to you it just feels right. There’s this chemistry between the two of you that you’ve never felt with anyone else. She seems downright perfect at times, and you aren’t sure how to deal with it when your alone and truly thinking about it.

The feeling you get when you’re with her is just… magical. 

You hope she feels the same way about you.

The floor creaks slightly under your feet. This part of the mansion seems a little older than the rest, or maybe Petra and Charles had just not kept up with renovations to it like they did with the other parts… which makes a little sense, considering visitors would never really see it.

You hit a switch with your elbow and the room lights up. There’s quite a few washers and dryers lining the walls, some of them already running. You set the basket next to an empty washing machine and start shoving the clothes inside, not really paying attention to who’s clothes they are and why they smell putrid.

Instead, your mind goes back to Petra. You think of her dark, silky hair and the way it cascades down her back and shoulders. The way her eyes shine when she’s talking to you about things that she loves. Most importantly, you think of her touch. For someone who literally owns you, she’s extremely gentle. Even when she’s being rough in bed, you can feel that she doesn’t actually want to hurt you.

As far as slave owners go, you really can’t ask for a better one.

...Of course, there’s Charles, who you try not to think about too often. He hasn’t laid a finger on you since that night, and you think that you have Petra to thank for it. There have actually been a couple of times where he has tried to communicate with you. You’d give short, one word answers or just nod your head, but he didn’t seem frustrated by it.

You don’t forgive him for what he did, you don’t think you ever can, but at least he hasn’t tried to hurt you anymore.

As you’re about to start the washing machine, you hear the creaking floorboards in the hallway. Someone is probably bringing another load of laundry. You look over to your right, it looks like there’s another empty washer there. You turn toward the doorway to let the person know and freeze.

Speak of the devil.

Charles stands there, expressionless. You aren’t sure what to make of it, so you just don’t say anything.

“Ah, ___, I was just looking for you.” He says, “If you’re done with those clothes, I have an extra task for you… if you don’t mind taking it.”

You can’t keep the confusion from your face. He is usually one to order, even if it isn’t in a mean way, he usually isn’t one for asking if you were okay with something.

“Wh-what is it?” You ask.

A tiny smile twitches at the corner of his mouth, “There’s a room that needs cleaning, and I’ve been meaning to get someone to do it, but… well, Petra doesn’t really trust any of the monsters to go down there, even if she can order them not to mess with anything.”

You raise an eyebrow. That doesn’t make much sense, she shouldn’t have to worry if she could just order them, or if she could watch them herself as they clean.

“But she does trust you.” 

It takes a moment for the words to register, but once they do, your heartbeat quickens.

Petra trusts you? Truly?

“R-really?” You sputter.

He nods, “Yes. So we talked about it and we both agree that you would be the best person to take care of the matter.”

“I… Okay.” You say, feeling a bit more confident in yourself, “I’ll do it.”

His smile is wider now, “Good! If you can just grab a mop and a few other cleaning supplies and meet me at the basement door, that would be wonderful.”

With that, he turns and walks out of the room. You’re left with a mix of emotions fluttering around in your stomach, the strongest of them all being excitement.

Petra trusts you with something she hasn’t trusted any of the other slaves with.

You feel prideful…. And important… and…

And like you’re wasting time!

You run out of the room and sprint as fast as you can to the nearest closet where cleaning supplies were kept. You grab a bucket, a mop, and some smaller cleaning supplies and run back out.

The basement… you’ve never been down in it, but you remember Papyrus showing you the door to it. He had told you that he had actually never been down there, and that only certain monsters were able to enter with permission from Petra or Charles.

Your excitement grows even more and you speed toward the basement, only slowing down when you see Charles ahead. You feel a little embarrassed now, you don’t want him to see you like this, completely captivated by the idea of his very wife feeling close enough to you to trust you with something.

“Alright, ___. Careful going down these stairs, they’re a little steep.” Charles says, opening the door to the basement and starting down ahead of you.

It’s dark, and the air is musty, but you can see a dim light down below and you focus on it. The stairs are pretty steep, but you actually feel a bit better knowing that if you fall, you’ll hit Charles.

“There’s another light down here.” Charles says as he reaches the bottom, “It’s been a little bit since I’ve been down here, let’s see…”

You set the supplies down and try to get your eyes adjusted to the room’s layout in the flickering light.

“It might be in there.” Charles said, extending his arm to point to your right, “Can you check for me?”

You start walking to where he’s pointing, holding your hands out in front of you in case you hit a wall… which you eventually did. The wall feels strangely like brick, and you begin feeling around for any sign of a light switch.

“I’m not feeling anyth-”

You jump as you hear the scraping of metal behind you. You twirl around to see a set of bars slam shut.

You’re trapped.

“Sir?” You say, running up to the bars.

Charles says nothing, and you can make out his figure heading toward the stairs.

“SIR!” You yell.

You can hear him walking up the stairs. You scream once more, but it’s no use. The door up the stairs closes and you’re left alone.

It becomes creepily quiet, and you become increasingly aware of your own breathing and the pulse of your heart in your ears. You feel toward the junction between the gate and the wall, pulling as hard as you can at the bars.

It’s no use, he’s got you locked in here.

You back up and look around the room. You’re beginning to see things better, and you can make out the small area you’re trapped in. The walls are definitely brick, and a dark brownish color. The floor is tile or stone, you aren’t really sure. One thing you’re pretty sure of, though, is that this place is pretty old, and it doesn’t look like anyone has been down here in quite a while.

You’re terrified, but you try to keep yourself calm.

Someone will know you’re missing and come look for you. Petra, Papyrus, hell maybe even Grillby.

You won’t be here forever.... Right?

You let out a sigh and sit on the cold ground, resting back against the wall.

Closing your eyes, you wonder if you could fall asleep in here, at least long enough to pass the time until someone start looking for you.


	14. Burning in Hell

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays! If you aren't celebrating anything, then I still hope your day is full of love and happiness!
> 
> now here's the best possible Christmas chapter anyone could ever hope for! XDD
> 
> -Paige

Petra pulls her robe around herself before letting her wet hair fall from the towel. It’s nice and quiet in the bedroom, and a nice bath is just what she needed to recharge. She stretches her arms above her head and yawns. It’s a bit early to be going to sleep, but she feels as though the bed is just calling her name.

She’s starting toward it when a knock sounds at her bedroom door. Petra raises a brow… no monster is supposed to bother her while she is in her room… is it an emergency?... perhaps it’s ___.

Petra crosses the room and opens the door to see Kiku, the blue-gray feline monster she and Charles purchased a year or so ago.

“I’m sorry, but… is there a reason you are disturbing me during my alone time?” She asks.

Kiku frowns, “I am so sorry, missus, but Mister Charles sent me.”

“Is everything alright?” Petra asks, now a little worried as to why he would send a slave when he could just come into her room himself.

“Yes’m, but, well…” She looks a little flustered, turning her face away and rubbing the back of her head, “He said that he thought it might be nice if he sent me over as a… companion for the night.”

Petra is rather speechless. Why would he think you wanted the cat monster as a companion? She had bedded her once or twice, but never remembered it as anything special… not like it was with you…

“Will you… Will you allow me to assist you, Miss Petra.” Kiku asks, “Perhaps I can just give you a massage? I am very good with my paws, missus.”

Kiku seems like she doesn’t want Petra to tell her no, and Petra immediately wonders if Charles had done something to hurt or scare her.

Eh, she could probably use a massage anyway.

Petra steps to side and Kiku smiles at her before entering. 

“Are you having a nice night, Kiku?” Petra asks as she starts back toward the bed.

Kiku doesn’t answer. There’s the sound of a clicking lock behind her.

“Kiku?” Petra turns around to face her.

“Miss Petra,” Kiku starts toward her, “I know you’ve been spending a lot of time with ___… would you be willing to tell me the reason for it?”

Petra narrows her eyes at the monster, “Do not ask me about them.”

Kiku steps closer.

“Missus… will you tell me why you’re so infatuated with ___?”

Shock crosses Petra’s face, “How are you… Stop this.”

Kiku shakes her head, smiling, “No can do, miss.”

She reaches out and Petra backs away.

“Kiku, I demand you to stop!”

Kiku smirks and lunges forward, grabbing ahold of her arms to keep her from getting away.

Petra gasps, a pang of fear coursing through her. How could she be refusing orders? Is her collar malfunctioning? What was she planning on doing to her.

Petra swallows that fear and decides to rely on what she knows best. She lets her eyelids become heavy and leans against Kiku, staring into her eyes.

“Oh… I didn’t realize that about you…” Petra says in the most sultry voice she can muster, “You like things rough, don’t you?”

Kiku’s brows furrow in confusion before she begins laughing.

“Oh missus… that isn’t going to work on me.” She tells her.

Petra can’t hide her fear now… how is Kiku resisting her? She can seduce anyone, she’s never failed to do so… What is going on?

Kiku pulls Petra across the room and pushes her onto the bed. She climbs on top of her, smiling wildly as she leans over her.

“Look, I don’t want to hurt you miss Petra… well, not too much anyway.” Kiku says, “I do want to have fun with you though, and I need you to give me some information,”

Petra stares up at her, “What kind of information?”

“Oh, a few things.” Kiku leans in, running one of her sharp claws across Petra’s cheek, “First, I need you to tell me about ___. And if you don’t…”

She digs her claw in a bit and Petra winces.

“Well… let’s just not find out what I’ll do, hmm  _ love _ ?”

 

* * *

 

You’re not sure how much time has passed, but a noise from the stairway pulls you out of your dreamless sleep. You hear someone walking down the stairs and you push yourself to your feet and rush to the bars of your prison.

You're about to ask if it's Petra coming to rescue you, but the words die in your throat when you hear a familiar voice.

It's Charles, but he's talking to someone. You notice that there's a bright light coming from them, and you think its a flashlight… until they step into view.

You freeze in place at first, your eyes fixed on the living fire that stands only feet away from you. 

Grillby looks from Charles and his eyes lock with yours. Even behind the thick frames of his glasses, you can see them widen in shock.

“Sir… what is this?” He asks.

“Oh this?” Charles gestures to you, “It's just a little lesson… for both of you.”

You're already backed against the wall, as far away from them as you can possibly get. Charles is opening the gate and ordering Grillby to go in. You nearly fall over yourself trying to get to the furthest end of the room. 

There's a fire burning right in front of you. You press your back, your hands, everything into the bricks behind you. You want to disappear into them. Your skin is crawling with fear. 

You close your eyes and turn your head away. You hear an order, you ignore the vibration of your collar… it's a mistake

A jolt of intense pain courses through you and you scream, falling to the hard floor. 

“Look at him, I said.” Charles orders again.

The collar vibrates its warning again and you whimper as you turn to face Grillby, slowly opening your eyes little by little.

Grillby isn't far away, but he looks like he's trying to keep as much distance between the two of you as he can. 

You remember how he helped you. Grillby doesn't want to hurt you, it isn't his fault that he's trapped in here with you.

It also isn't his fault that he's made of fire. Not that it makes you less scared, but you try to focus on that rather than the actual fire itself.

You can hear Charles speaking again, but his words seem jumbled. Your heartbeat is so loud in your ears, it’s hard to understand anything at the moment. 

There’s a flash of light and suddenly there’s a hand gripping your throat. You whimper, it’s getting difficult to breathe, and your eyes water as you look up at your assailant. Even through tears, you can see his frightened expression. 

You try to fight the voice in your head that’s screaming about fire touching you. Grillby has touched you before, but… you didn’t look at him then. This time you can see the different tones of orange and yellow in his flames and it’s beginning to bring you back to your childhood.

Your family, your home, your life… all consumed by fire.

You yelp as his hand grips tighter. He yells for Charles to stop, he’s going too far, he’ll kill you. Charles is laughing, he orders Grillby again, but nothing happens. Grillby involuntarily squeezes again as pain rushes through him. He’s trying to fight it, he’s trying.

But he can’t, and you know he can’t. The collar will force his magic to react to the order.

Oh god.

You’re going to die in here, you just know it.

A scream rips itself from your lungs as his other hand meets your arm with a searing hot pain that’s oh so familiar, and terribly difficult to forget. Tears spill from your eyes as you feel the fire burn through your skin. You can just barely hear Grillby apologizing profusely.

You fall to the floor eventually, coughing and sputtering. You can see the imprint of Grillby’s hand on your arm as a pink, bubbled up splotch. You close your eyes tightly once more, as if looking at it can make it hurt even worse than it already does.

Charles is shouting at Grillby angrily and it isn’t long before you feel a kick to your gut that knocks the wind out of you. Grillby raises his normally soft voice at Charles and the next kick goes straight to your chest. You curl in on yourself, unable to quieten your loud sobs.

“Charles, stop this!” You hear Grillby say.

Charles laughs, “I’m just getting started… burn her again.”

Grillby is attempting to fight the command, he cries out in agony and hits his knees. You can see him reaching toward you slowly and you immediately try to recoil, hissing at the pain in your arm, stomach, and chest.

“I’m sorry, I…” Grillby mutters, “I can’t stop this.”

Your vision becomes distorted as the blinding heat eats at your shoulder now. Your throat hurts from screaming, and the noises now coming out of your mouth sound so hoarse and pitiful. You’re close to passing out when a soothing feeling takes over.

Grillby is healing you.

The pains in your body start to disappear, and you’re able to breathe evenly again. You glance up at Grillby, who still looks very worried.

And it takes 3 more words for you to understand why.

“Do it again.”

The burning is just as bad the second time around, this time it’s your thigh. You’re inconsolable, beginning to hyperventilate, and you would be thankful if he killed you right now.

There’s a strange silence and suddenly Charles lets out a few curses. Grillby’s hand his still gripping your skin, but he isn’t burning any longer. You hear Charles step closer to the bars.

“I’ll be back. You two don’t even think about escaping… and you,” He glares at Grillby,

“hurt them until they can’t take any more…. But don’t you dare let them die.”


	15. Friendly Fire

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Do y'all feel like my chapters are too short? I usually try to reach for 1,600 words a chapter, but sometimes I feel like they should be longer... and sometimes they may be, but I tend to end them where I feel it's necessary. Idk. I notice that I'm not really as detailed in my writing most of the time, but that's okay :) We all write differently!
> 
> I hope everyone had a wonderful holiday! The new year is right around the corner. Anyone made and resolutions yet? Or just plans in general? :D
> 
> Did you hate the last chapter? :DDDD
> 
> Enjoy!  
> -Paige

The door up the stairs opens and closes, leaving you alone with Grillby in the cell. His hands are now grasping both of your shoulders as you lay on your back, looking up at him. 

“Tell me you can’t take anymore of this.” He says desperately through gritted… teeth? “Say it!”

“I-I can’t take it.” You whisper pathetically, “I can’t take any more.”

His tight grip immediately releases and he lets out a heavy sigh.

“I’m sorry.” He says, placing his hand flat against your chest, “I am so sorry.”

Once again, there’s a feeling of calm and relaxation spreading throughout your body. You take in a large, cleansing breath and let it out again as all the pain melts away.

“I only hope that you can forgive me.” He says, “But I understand if you don’t.”

Though your thoughts are still a jumbled mess attempting to process everything that has just happened, there’s one thing you know for sure.

“It’s not… Th-this wasn’t your fault.” You stutter.

You actually meet his gaze, and for a moment it seems like he has a furrowed brow. He shakes his head.

“Perhaps not, but…” His voice becomes softer as he looks over your arm, “god, you already have so many scars. I never wanted to add to them.”

He sounds so heartbroken, and you’re starting to feel sorry for him. 

“I kn-know you didn’t.” You say weakly, “It’s-”

You lose your train of thought as he pulls his hand back, giving you a good look at his arm. Not only are you not screaming in fear any longer, but you now notice the different textures on his forearm. There are certain places that look like cooled lava.

“That’s why I usually only wear long sleeves.” He says.

You frown, “Are you okay?”

There’s a moment of stunned silence before he lets out a laugh.

“You’re asking  _ me  _ if  _ I’m _ okay?”

“You healed me.” You tell him as you start to push yourself from the ground. His hands hover over you in case you fall back down.

“Only the burns and bruises.” He says, “I don’t understand how you can even be sitting up now.”

Honestly, you don’t understand it much yourself. Maybe you just feel more calm after he healed you?... Or perhaps you are starting to get used to all the torture this house holds.

“Are those… scars?” You ask, nodding to the places on his arm.

He holds his arm to him, running his fingers over the charred places.

“Yes. They are.” He tells you.

There’s another bout of silence where you want to ask him about them, but you decide not to. Looking at him, you can tell he doesn’t want to talk about that, and you completely understand where he’s coming from.

“I’m sorry.” You say.

He looks surprised at you again, “For what? You’ve done nothing.”

“I know that.” You tell him, “But I’m sorry that… that you have to deal with all this.”

“I’m used to it.” He says, “But you, you just got thrown in here, into all this.”

Looking at him now, you have this overwhelming urge to reach out and comfort him. Having been burned by him and healed again, it doesn’t seem as scary as before, the idea of touching him.

The flames around his scars burn brightly, and you connect them in your mind, once again, to the flickering of a lit candle. Before you’ve realized it, your arm is stretched out, your hand hovering over his arm.

He’s the one to jump this time when you touch his arm. He’s warm under your fingertips, but not uncomfortably so. He looks from your hand to your face.

“___?”

You don’t say anything, just run your thumb along one of his scars in awe… Your mind is telling you that you should be screaming, getting as far away from the fire as possible, but there’s this peace within you that you don’t quite understand. 

Grillby says your name again and you look up at his face. He blinks in confusion, probably wondering the same thing you are.

What the hell are you doing?

“I think you need to get some sleep.” He says.

“Probably.” You say quietly.

“Again, I’m sorry.” He tells you, “For all of this.”

You purse your lips and furrow your brows. 

“He’s going to do worse when he gets back… isn’t he?”

Grillby doesn’t say anything as he tears his eyes from your gaze. You swallow fear at his unspoken answer. You’re sure he is going to get in trouble for healing you and not hurting you anymore… and who knows how far Charles will take this.

You’re surprised when Grillby’s other hand covers yours. At first, there’s a rising panic in your chest, seeing you hand completely encased in flames, but you squash it back down. The warmth from him is so relaxing and you feel your eyelids start to get heavy.

“Maybe you’re right.” You say, letting out a yawn, “I should probably sleep.”

You hear him chuckle lightly and you slip your hand out from his. You begin to lay back on the ground when he stops you. He presses back against the wall and straightens out his legs before patting one of them.

“Go ahead and use me as a pillow. It’ll feel better than the ground.”

You have to admit, to yourself anyway, that it is a little awkward. And looking to his face, you swear he looks slightly embarrassed by what he’s just said. Still, he has a point, and you scoot over to him and lay back until your head is resting on one of his thighs.

“Thank you.” You tell him, “What about you, though? Are you going to sleep?”

“Don’t worry about me.” He says, giving you a small smile, “I’ll be alright.”

 

* * *

 

_ They have to be in shock _ .

Grillby looks down at your now-sleeping form. Your breathing has slowed down significantly compared to earlier, along with your heartbeat. He knows, his hand had been around your throat, he could feel your pulse in his palm. Now, he sees a vein in your neck throbbing ever so slightly beneath your skin.

_ If they were thinking clearly, they would never be this close to me. _

His eyes move to your bare arms where he can see the numerous burn scars that cover them.

_ What the hell happened to them…. _

He wants to ask you, but he's knows it's a sensitive subject, and he doesn't want to make you more uncomfortable. You've got way too much to deal with already.

He sighs and rests back against the wall. He doesn't know when Charles is coming back, but he knows that he isn't going to be too happy about you being completely healed.

He knows from experience that Charles can be a sick, sadistic asshole, but even this seems too far for him. Why would he do this? Perhaps he has a grudge against you… or just doesn't like you in general. Grillby knows he doesn't like him, so to bring him into it is unsurprising.

But you are new, what could you have possibly done for him to hate you? All you had done was exactly what Charles and Petra wanted. 

They had been talking about getting a human slave for… reasons. And Grillby knew that would be your job when he first saw you. 

It's how he knew what was happening to you that night in the study. 

He looks down at you again and gently brushes a bit of hair from your face. He frowns, you don't deserve any of this. He isn't sure of where you came from, but gathering info from your appearance when you first arrived here, he guesses that it wasn't that great of a place. 

He's glad to see that you've put on some weight and that you look well-rested. So physically, your needs were being taken care of… but was that worth this absolute torture? 

The scars on his arms catch his eye and he's reminded of all the shit he's had to endure himself over the years. 

Is it all worth it to him?

Not that he has a choice, of course.

And he guesses that you don't have much of a choice now either. 

You cough in your sleep and roll on your side to face him, grunting as you try to make yourself comfortable. He frowns, your throat probably still hurts from where he choked you. He can heal damage pretty well, but sometimes the soreness will still be there.

He knows hurting you wasn't his fault, but he can't help but feel like absolute shit about it. It wasn't of his own free will, but he still caused you pain. He fucking  _ burned _ you… at least there wouldn't be any scars left to remind you of it though.

It sucks that all this happened just when you were trying to get used to him being around. Grillby wonders if you're going to wake up with a clear head and panic at the sight of him again. It'd make sense, though he doesn't want you to be scared of him. 

He rests his head back against the wall and closes his eyes. Perhaps it won't be Charles that comes down next. Maybe in some wild stroke of luck, it will be Petra… She isn't much better, honestly, but he doesn't think she'd be okay with forcing one slave to beat another one close to death. Even she wasn't  _ that _ heartless.

Just as he's about to fall asleep, there's a noise from the top of the stairs. He lays a hand on your shoulder, bracing you and himself from any events about to transpire.


	16. Burning the Candle at Both Ends

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been wanting to post this chapter since I wrote it!
> 
> Also, I want to thank Uwa-so-Frisk (disillusionist9) for beta reading and helping me so much with my writing! <3
> 
> Enjoooy!  
> -Paige

_ The sun is so bright, even as it’s going down, it lights up the sky with such beautiful shades of pink and orange. The monsters have either gone back underground for the night, or are setting up campsites outside on the mountain. _

_ Sans is one of the latter group, as is Grillby, who sits next to him on the edge of the cliff. Papyrus and the others have gone back to grab some sleeping bags and other supplies, but the two of them were so amazed by the sky they just couldn't bear to leave it right now. _

_ Sans looks over at Grillby, who is still staring at the setting sun. He wonders if he sees a bit of himself in it, being fire and all. _

_ “how’re you feelin’ bud?” Sans asks him. _

_ The corner of Grillby’s mouth lifts in a smile. “It's… incredible.”  _

_ Sans can't help but smile as well. This is the first time in a while he has seen the fire elemental this happy. Most days the only time he'd really see Grillby light up (heh) would be when he would wander into his restaurant. Grillby had never been one to talk much in the Underground. He'd been more of a presence. But, he'd always been a little more open and friendly with Sans. _

_ “Do you think the humans will accept us?” Grillby asks. _

_ “if they're anything like frisk, im sure it'll be fine.” Sans says, doing his best to stay optimistic. He has his doubts, but right now he’s focusing on just being out here in the open. _

_ They’re finally free from the confinements of the underground. The air around them is crisp and clean. The light is real, not some monster-made magic. Theoretically, they could go anywhere they wanted.  _

_ Grillby lays his hand over Sans’ and squeezes it softly. He keeps silently staring out as the sun sinks behind the trees, taking in all of the beauty surrounding them. _

_ For all the beauty around them, Sans can’t take his eyes off of him. _

_ \-- _

Sans opens his eyes to the dark room. He knows exactly where he is, and he fucking hates it.

Frisk’s old room in the Ruins. It’s strange, seeing all the kid's things still here. Actually, it’s kinda creepy, when he really thinks on it. Not all of this is Frisk’s. A lot of it, in fact, is Chara’s, who was Toriel and Asgore’s adopted human child whom they raised along their birth child, the prince, Asriel.

Before they both perished in the horrible accident.

Sans shakes that from his mind for now, focusing on his dream instead. It's a memory he treasures, a moment not long after Frisk broke the barrier and monsters gathered outside. The sun was only beginning to go down. The valley they'd imagined but never seen was painted in golds, oranges, and every shade in between from the sun, colors he associated with Grillby. With happiness. It was a glorious moment. There was so much joy, so much hope.

Boy, were they wrong to trust humanity to be accepting based on the mercy of one child.

Wrong and fucking stupid.

Anger bubbles up inside him, knowing how it all turned out, but he lets himself focus on how they felt in that moment. If things had gone the way they hoped, he wonders where they'd all be now. Would Papyrus have been able to get a license and the car he'd always wanted? Would Grillby have opened up a new restaurant on the surface? What would he be doing?

There's this horrible, empty feeling in his soul knowing that the ones he loves most aren't here with him. He doesn't know if they're safe, or if they’re even alive.

And he… he hasn't been doing nearly enough to try and find them. He hasn't checked all his options, pulled all his resources, and really worked on finding them. He knows he has to keep a low cover in order to keep everyone down here safe, but he could do better.

It's his brother and Grillby for fuck’s sake.

_ get your skull out of your metaphorical ass, sans. _

It’s pretty early still. He could sleep a few more hours, but he doesn’t. He gets out of bed and grabs his laptop.

He's got a few messages to send out. 

He'll find them even if it kills him… and even that wouldn't be so bad, he thinks.

 

* * *

Petra coughs, nearly gagging at the coppery taste of blood in her mouth. Kiku stares down at her work with a smirk She’s had fun roughing her up, that’s for certain.

Though, as much as she’s been beaten, Petra still isn’t sure if Kiku actually got any decent info out of her. She honestly isn’t sure what the cat monster was looking for in the first place. Obviously, Charles sent her in to get something from her, but what?

She told her that she enjoys toying with their new pet, that she enjoys their company and feels that they are special… what she didn’t tell, was that she doesn’t really want to be around Charles most of the time.

And this is just one reason why.

Petra knows Charles has always had a bit of a jealous streak, but not with relationships so much as power. Power over the slaves, and power over her.

And the jealousy over her literal magical powers.

“Well, that was fun.” Kiku smiles and laughs as she climbs off the bed. “Have to do it again sometime!”

Petra doesn’t say anything as the monster leaves the room, she knows it won’t do any good, she can’t touch her.

She closes her eyes and lets out a heavy sigh. How long will this go on? How long will she  _ let _ it go on?... and why doesn’t she just leave?

She knows the answers to all of those questions. There’s no point in even thinking on them anymore.

Petra groans as she sits up, pulling her robe back over her naked, and now very sore, body. She stands from the bed and walks slowly over to the vanity mirror, wincing when she looks into it. Her hair is a complete wreck, one eye is swollen and beginning to bruise and her lip is busted. 

She lets out a humourless laugh.

“This is what you get though, isn’t it?” she says to her reflection.

Dragging her feet, she makes her way back to the bathroom to wash her face, but just as she turns the water on at the sink there’s another knock at her door. A much louder one this time.

She grumbles loudly and heads to it. These monsters know they shouldn’t be bothering her. It isn’t allowed. She’s been too nice, she’s going to have to command them from now o-

“MISS PETRA, I-”

There’s a yelp from behind the door. It’s Papyrus. Petra frowns, confused. Why would Papyrus, of all monsters, be the one knocking on her door. She hurries over and swings the door open to reveal the tall skeleton.

“I-I’m sorry, missus.” he says, a bit quieter now. One of his gloved hands reaches for his collar like he wants to rub his neck, but he lowers it when Petra opens the door. Charles's command to be quieter likely shocked him when he spoke at full volume.

“I know you said not to bother you, and I wouldn’t normally, but… Missus, what happened to your face?!”

Petra shakes her head softly. “It’s nothing, dear. What is it that you need?”

“Oh, it’s ___!” He says, a worried expression flashing across his face, “Sir took them down to the basement before going to get Grillby-”

“Wait.” Petra holds up a hand, “Why did he take ___ to the basement?”

“I don’t know.” He tells her, wringing his hands nervously,  “I just saw them head that way.”

Petra’s brow furrows, “And… Grillby?”

Papyrus nods, “Yes ma’am. He took both of them down there.”

Petra’s heart feels as though it’s dropping into her stomach. She knows you’re terrified of fire now. It’s difficult for you to be in the same area of the house as Grillby if you know he’s there.

And Charles took you AND Grillby to the basement?!

“Take me to them.” Petra says, walking past Papyrus out of the room. “I know you aren’t normally allowed in the basement, but tonight is an exception.”

“Yes missus!” Papyrus says, hurrying alongside her.

The two of them make their way across the house, to the basement door. Petra immediately throws it open and starts down the stairs, nearly losing her footing in the rush. Papyrus catches her arm before she falls.

“Miss Petra, are you sure you’re alright?” He asks.

“Yeah.” She says, “Thank you.”

He doesn’t look convinced. She tries to give him a strong smile. Poor, precious Papyrus. She’s always had a soft spot for him.

They continue down the stairs, a bit slower this time. There’s a light at the bottom, but it isn’t coming from the usual source.

“Petra.” Grillby says from inside the caged room.

“Grillby?” Petra looks to his lap, “___! What happened here?”

She unlocks the door and Papyrus helps push it aside as she slides in, running over to the two on the floor. She kneels down and looks at you. You're passed out, sleeping soundly. You don't look like you've been hurt, but it's a little dim and it's difficult to really tell.

Petra looks to Grillby, “Are you both okay?”

“I-” He stops and searches her face, “ We're alright. But… Charles, he brought us down here and…”

He glances up at Papyrus and doesn't say anything else. Petra understands that he doesn't want to discuss it here.

“They are healed though.” He says, looking down at you, “Physically.”

Petra frowns and reaches down to place her hand against your cheek before looking back at Papyrus.

“Papyrus, do you mind taking ___ up to their bed?” She asks.

He looks like he wants to ask questions, but he just nods and kneels down to scoop you into his arms. Petra thanks him and he carries you back up the stairs.

Grillby stands so he and Petra can step outside of the small cage. Once he hears the basement door close, he turns to her.

“What happened?” He asks.

His eyes run over her face, he's frowning, he looks sad… worried.

“It's nothing.” 

Grillby crosses his arms, revealing his sleeveless forearms. Petra tries not to look at the scars that covered them. The scars  _ she  _ caused

“Look, I understand that you technically own me and all, but you need to let me know what's going on.”

“Grillby, it's fine.” She says.

“Petra, it's-” He starts to argue, but she stops him with a glare, a warning.

He sighs. “At least let me heal you.”

She opens her mouth to protest, but shuts it, thinking better of it. The look on his face is so upsetting.

He cares, and she hates it.

“Fine,” she concedes.

He lifts his hand, but stops midway. “It isn't just your face, is it?” 

She shakes her head and he lets out another heavy breath before pressing his hand gently to her chest. A warm feeling envelopes Petra and her eyes fall shut. The pain of her injuries begins to melt away.

“Charles did this, didn't he?” Grillby asks.

She frowns, “Not directly, no.”

“Not what I meant.” He says, “But this is his fault.”

She doesn't say anything, but she doesn't need to. The look Grillby gives her lets her know he's dropping that line of questioning, but only for now.

"I hurt them. I didn't want to."

It's clear he means that Charles ordered him to hurt you. Petra figured it was something like that.

“You healed them too,” she says.

Grillby nods. “Yes. They were…”

He pauses for a moment, contemplating his next words.

“ _ I  _ burned them. Over many of their older scars.”

“Grillby,” Petra starts, “This isn’t your fault”

“It was bad.” He says bluntly, “I might’ve healed them, but still…”

The only emotion in his voice is a bit of anger, which is rare for Grillby. He’s normally very calm and collected, but this time it’s different. He didn't know that you had already been burned before, and that's why you were scared of fire. He only found out when he was forced to burn you. She can understand why he’d be angry.

“Grillby, I’m-”

“If you are going to apologize, I'd rather you not.”

She could easily order him to shut up, to not talk to her the way he is, like she had before. But Grillby doesn’t sound like he’s being insubordinate or commanding. He sounds hurt.

She doesn't say anything else as he heals her. It doesn't take long for the stinging on her face to stop, and the swelling in her eye to go down.

“I know you won't agree with me,” Grillby says as he pulls his hand back, “But he needs to be stopped. You can't let him keep doing this.”

She looks at him with such confusion. How can he be saying that they need to stop Charles, when she's done…

She doesn't deserve that kindness.

“It'll be okay,” is all she says.

She can tell he wants to argue, but he doesn't say a word, just searches her eyes for any sort of answer or weakness.

She knows he sees right through her facade.

“You must be tired,” Petra says. “You need to go get some sleep.”

“You as well.” He takes her hand, “Come on, let me make sure you get to your room alright.” 

She doesn't say anything, just squeezes his hand and lets him lead her back out of the basement.


	17. Hot and Bothered

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy New Years to everyone living in the future right now! XD
> 
> I hope you all enjoy this new chapter!!
> 
> -Paige

You wake up to the bright light of your and Papyrus’ shared room. You don't think anything of it at first, it's just another day.

But you slowly sit up, your muscles feeling rather sore and stiff. You remember last night. The basement, Grillby, everything.

“___, you're awake,” Papyrus says from a few feet away.

You look over to where he’s standing by one of the bookshelves. There’s a worried crease between his eye sockets.  “Papyrus, is everything okay? Is Grillby alright? What happened?”

He walks over and kneels next to your bed.  “Everyone is okay, don’t worry.”

“H-how did we get out of there?” you ask.

“I saw Charles taking you and Grillby both down there,” he tells you. “I got Petra and we both got you out.”

You can't help yourself. You throw your arms around the skeleton and hold him tight.

“Thank you,” you whisper, tears beginning to fill your eyes.

He hugs you, rubbing your back. “It's alright. I'm not sure what happened down there, but I'm sorry.”

You sniffle. “Where's Grillby?”

“He's in the kitchen working on breakfast.” 

You pull back to look at him. “Charles didn't do anything to him, did he?”

Papyrus is still hovering slightly, clearly worried about you, “I don't think so… what happened to the two of you?”

“Charles hurt us both,” you tell him, not wanting to give the gruesome details, “but Grillby healed me.”

Papyrus frowns and, for a moment, you wonder if he is going to press for more information, but he doesn’t. “Okay. I wonder if miss Petra will do anything to sort this out.”

“I hope she does… but I don't know,” you say. “Is it alright if I go see Grillby?”

Papyrus raises a brow bone, “You want to  _ see  _ him? I thought fire scared you?”

“It does!” you tell him, “b-but I wanna make sure he is okay… and I want to thank him for healing me.” 

“Would you like me to escort you?” he asks, standing up.

You nod and he holds out his hand to help you out of bed. Your legs feel rather weak and it takes you a moment to steady yourself properly. Papyrus continues to hold your hand as the two of you walk downstairs to the dining room. 

“Do you want me to go in there with you?” he asks as you stand in front of the kitchen door.

“I think I'm gonna try this alone,” you say, smiling up at him. “I'll call out for you if I need you.”

He smiles and squeezes your hand in reassurance before letting go. “Good luck, my friend.”

You return the smile and thank him before laying your hand on the door knob and turning it. You open it slightly and peer in. You are immediately hit with the wonderful smell of bacon and can see the flames of Grillby’s head near one of the stoves. The sight of the fire causes your heart to start racing. You feel scared, you want to turn back and forget about doing this, but… he helped you, and you do your best to remember it. Grillby doesn't mean you any harm, and he's healed you twice now.

He's not the fire that killed your family.

You slowly push the door open the rest of the way and step in cautiously. Grillby hears the door and turns his head, freezing when he sees that it's you.

You take a step forward, your heart racing. Grillby, wary of your presence, takes a small step back.

“G-Grillby.”

“Do you need me to leave?” he asks.

You shake your head. “I… I don't think so.”

Your body is shaking out of fear, but you try to focus on being brave. You walk to where you can see him completely. He's dressed in a button up, long sleeve shirt and a pair of nice jeans. He's studying you closely as you stand before him, looking like he could bolt at any moment.

“Hi.” You’re unsure where to even begin with this conversation.

“Hello, ___.” 

You try not to stare at him, but the fire is as mesmerizing as it is terrifying.

“Are you alright?” you ask.

He looks over to the bacon on the griddle, either checking on the state of it, or to not make eye contact with you.

“I am not hurt,” he tells you. “Petra and Papyrus got us out last night. I have not seen Charles since.”

“Good,” you breathe out a sigh of relief. “I'm glad.” 

He returns to flipping strips of bacon. “How are you feeling this morning?”

You step a bit closer, now paying more attention to the bacon. Your mouth begins watering, but you try to focus back on the conversation.

“Better. I just… I wanted to thank you.”

He pauses. “If you mean for healing you, then you're welcome. But I don't feel like I deserve your thanks.”

You frown. “Grillby-”

“I hurt you,” he says, “very badly, and I'm sorry for that.”

He isn't quite meeting your eyes, he looks sad and ashamed.  “I hope you can forgive me.”

You don't understand; Charles made him do those things, he wasn't given a choice. Physically, he was unable to stop himself. You want to tell him that it isn't his fault, but you don't think he's going to think the same way.

There’s an overwhelming feeling of sadness inside you for this monster. You bite your lip as you think about it.  You remember that he has scars too, and that he's probably been through his fair share of torture at the hands of Charles, and now he has to deal with becoming a torturer against his will

Before you can reconsider your next plan of action, you squeeze your eyes shut and dash forward, throwing your arms around him. He tenses up in surprise.

“It's okay Grillby,” you say, eyes still closed, “I don't blame you for any of that.”

He relaxes a bit and you soon feel the warmth of his hand on your back. “Thank you, ___.” He speaks so softly that you can barely hear it.

You stay like that for a few minutes, tears pricking at your eyes once again. In just a few short weeks, you'd already been through so much, and you'd be lying if you said it wasn't beginning to take a toll on you.

Something about hugging Grillby is nice, though. He’s so incredibly warm, and you can see a bit of his light through your eyelids.

“Petra is probably going to want to talk to you about all this,” Grillby tells you, still rubbing your back. “You need to be wary of her.”

You twist your mouth in confusion “Why?”

The two of you part and you take a step back before looking at him once again. 

“I’m unable to talk about it,” he says, gesturing to his collar. “But… she can be dangerous.”

“What?” you blurt out, “Dangerous? How?”

He tenses a bit at the anger you’re not trying to hide. How could Petra possibly be dangerous, she hasn’t been anything but kind to all of you. Grillby sighs and meets your eyes with a very serious look.

“I understand how you feel. But when you’re with her, you need to keep your wits about you, alright?”

“I don’t understand…” You have no reason not to trust the fire monster, but you don’t think you have any reason to not trust Petra either… then again, Petra has power over you where Grillby does not.

And it wouldn’t make sense for Grillby to lie to you. Not after the bullshit you’ve both gone through.

“I just don't want to see you get hurt,” he says softly after a minute or two.

“I-I’ll keep that in mind,” you tell him. “Thank you.”

Grillby grabs a nearby plate and begins moving some of the bacon off of the griddle.

“I appreciate you coming down here to see me. I know it must be difficult for you.”

“It's not so bad,” you tell him truthfully. “I just have to focus on you rather than… what you're m-made of.”

You meet his eyes and catch the slight smile cross his face. 

“You're very brave, which is no surprise,” he says.

You raise a brow. “What do you mean?” 

“Your soul type.Have you seen the color of your collar?”

You think back to the last time you looked in the mirror. “It's orange.”

“Exactly. The collar color reflects your soul color, which correlates to the type of soul you have. Orange is for bravery.”

“That's… strange.” Your hand lifts to touch the collar. “I've never really thought of myself as brave.”

“That's usually how it is,” he says. “Many people don't realize what their strongest trait is, since it usually comes so naturally to them that they don't think about it.”

You look at his collar. There’s a stripe of green lighting up the display.

“What is green for?” you ask.

Grillby pauses for a moment as he’s adding more food to the griddle. You wonder for a moment if you shouldn’t have asked it, but he responds anyway.

“Green stands for kindness. It also shows that I specialize in healing magic.”

“Oh, that makes sense,” you tell him. “It suits you.”

He lets out a soft, nervous chuckle. There’s a tinge of blue to his cheeks that wasn’t there before.

“Thanks… I think yours suits you as well.”

“Yeah?” you say, surprised.

He nods. “For one, you’re still standing here in the same room as me. That in and of itself is very brave of you.”

You think on it. You hadn't considered your actions as bravery, since you know Grillby isn't a cruel monster. You wanted to come down and make sure he wasn't hurt because of what he did for you. But, knowing what you've been through, and how you're trying to conquer your fear, you can see how that can be taken as bravery.

“Th-thank you.”

“Of course.” He turns back to the stove. “Now, would you like some breakfast?”

Your stomach grumbles as if on cue and you giggle. “Yeah, breakfast sounds really good right now."

 

* * *

It’s much later in the afternoon when Petra finally calls for you to meet her in her quarters. You’re a bit nervous, given Grillby’s warning, but you’ve also been wanting to thank her for the role she played in getting the two of you out the night before. You lightly knock on her door and she answers, smiling when she sees that it’s you. She motions for you to enter and shuts the door behind you.

“___, I want to start by saying I am so sorry for what happened,” she says as soon as she turns back to you. “Charles… he…. ugh.”

She lets out an aggravated sigh and rubs at her forehead.“I told him not to treat you like this. I warned him, I-”

“Miss Petra?” you speak softly.

She glances at you, her eyes look extremely tired and rather sunken in.

“Are you okay?” you ask.

“Oh, honey, I should be asking you that,” she says, “Come here, let’s sit down.”

The two of you walk over to the loveseat and sit facing one another. She grabs a nearby glass of wine and sips from it. You can’t help but wonder if she’s been up all night, she isn’t put together as nicely as she usually is, and the room looks unkempt. 

“I was planning on talking to Charles about this, but I haven’t seen him all day,” she tells you, “I’d love to give him a piece of my mind…”

You don’t say anything, just watch her down the rest of her glass and reach for the open wine bottle on the coffee table. She pours the rest of the wine into her glass and sets the now empty bottle aside.

“Anyway, love,” she says, looking at you again, “we both know that, even though he and I are your owners, what he did was just taking it too far. I know my apology isn’t much, but I am sorry. I promise I will do better in the future to make sure he doesn’t hurt you like that again.”

You want to thank her, but it gets caught in your throat. She sounds sincere, but… there’s a question that’s been on your mind that you feel she needs to answer first.

“Miss Petra, why does that place in the basement exist?”

She blinks a few times, looking away from you. You aren’t sure if she’s upset by your question and you start to worry that she might command you to never bring it up.

“It’s for slaves who do not behave,” she says outright, “Sometimes we take in pets who like to try to find loopholes in our commands. We take them down there to straighten them out.”

You’re rather stunned, yet something in the back of your mind is telling you that you should’ve seen this coming. “Loopholes?”

She nods. “Yes. Some commands aren’t that straightforward. Like if I tell you to ‘clean this room’ but I don’t specify how much to clean, you could just pick up a few things and leave the rest of it alone and your collar is none the wiser. That sort of thing.”

Your thoughts go to last night when you remember Charles telling Grillby to continue hurting you when he left. You distinctly remember him finding a way around that.

You tuck that info away for later.

Petra takes another swig. “It wasn't supposed to be used on you. It's obviously not for humans.”

You frown. You know the way she views humans and monsters differently, but she should be able to see that she's hurting them.

“So… what will happen now?” you ask.

Petra thinks for a moment and shrugs. “I don't know. I guess we'll find out when I see Charles again. Until then-”

She puts down her glass and turns to you, a smirk on her face. She caresses your chin and leans in to you. You immediately feel drawn to her in every possible way.

“-let’s have a little fun, shall we.”


	18. A Steamy Situation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy New Year everyone! I hope you're all doing well and that 2018 is going to be an awesome year for you!
> 
> This chapter and the next are ones that I'm sure you've all been waiting for!
> 
> Don't forget to leave a comment! It honestly makes my day! ❤
> 
> Enjoy!  
> -Paige

The next few days were a great deal easier on you. You didn’t even see Charles, and Petra had decided to give you some space, only calling on you to clean the bedroom after that last night the two of you were together.

Referring to that night, you hadn’t really had sex so much as kiss, cuddle, and generally  spent time together. Petra had gotten drunk and was rather emotional, dwelling on how horrible she felt about what Charles did to you. You reassured her that it wasn’t her fault, but she still felt like she was the one to blame. 

She also said a few things that you didn’t really understand Most of it was incoherent mumbling once the alcohol became too much. She had teared up a few times, mentioning something about Charles and… Kiku? You remember meeting a cat monster by that name in the dining room on your second day in the mansion, but you’re unsure why Petra would mention her. Despite all that, you comforted her and the two of you eventually fell asleep together in her bed.

Since then, you’ve had some time to relax. Today has mostly been spent with Papyrus.The two of you have eaten, done chores and went out to the garden for a walk together. You'd expected Papyrus to take the chance to ask details on what happened between you, Charles and Grillby. He hasn't, not even close, which you are very grateful for. Papyrus is so easy to talk to; he listens carefully and really thinks on what you’re saying. He always asks if you want advice, and he never makes you feel like you’re stupid or wrong for how you feel.

It’s simple to get caught up in all the crap that’s wrong in this household, but you really are happy that you’re here instead of on the streets. You’re no longer starving or cold all the time, and you actually have people you care about.

Of course, there are still the nightmares. You’re pretty sure those are always going to be there, though.

You wake up in a cold sweat, clutching the front of your shirt in panic. The nightmares never seem to end, and even now, your mind is spinning with the fear of being hungry, alone, and trapped.

Your vision focuses on the room and you see Papyrus asleep in his bed thanks to the moonlight shining through the window. Waiting for a moment to see if you’ve woken him up, you try to calm yourself down.

_ You’re alright. _

_ You live in a mansion… as a slave. _

_ But that’s okay. _

_ You have friends. _

_ You have a good life here. _

As your heartbeat slows back down, you become aware of just how dry your mouth is and that your throat feels rather scratchy. You reach over to your nightstand only to realize that your usual glass of water is empty, and frown. You don’t really want to go downstairs by yourself in the middle of the night, but you’re so parched, it’d be impossible to relax enough to fall back asleep right now.

Slowly, you get out of bed and walk across the room to the door, glass gripped tightly in your hand. You open it and step out into the hallway.

The house is uncomfortably quiet, the only sound coming from your footsteps  and every breath you take. You start down the stairs that feel steeper and longer now than they do during the day. Some of the steps creak and it sends a chill up your spine.

_ Don’t trip. Don’t trip. Don’t- _

You gasp as you start to lose your footing, causing yourself to hit the railing. Cursing under your breath, you try to steady yourself once again, realizing that you’re probably focusing so hard on not screwing up, you’re causing yourself to do just that. 

You take a deep breath and start again, focusing on how thirsty you are this time. You need to make it to the kitchen, it’s okay to make a little bit of noise… even if it does sound ten times louder in the middle of the night.

After what seems like at least twenty minutes, you finally make it to the kitchen. Instead of using the little ice dispenser on the door, you open the freezer to not make as much noise. You grab a few ice cubes and put them in your glass before shutting the door again to actually pour the water.

Just as you go to fill your glas, you think you hear a noise. You look around and wait.

Nothing.

You turn back to the fridge and press your glass against the switch and lick your lips as the water flows into your glass. Not even waiting for it to be full, you bring the glass to your mouth and drink quickly. Closing your eyes, you focus on how good it feels against your dry throat. The water is so refreshing, you drink it all and immediately go for more.

You’re so focused on quenching your thirst that you don’t realize that someon-

“___?”

You yelp and spin around, the glass of water slipping from your hands. Grillby rushes over, grabbing the glass before it hits the ground. You stare in wide-eyed horror as some of the water sloshes out onto his hand. He winces as it sizzles, steam rising from it. 

“Grillby!” You blurt out before covering your mouth,  “Oh my god, I’m so sorry!”

“It’s alright,” he says, straightening up and setting the glass on the counter before turning his attention to his injured hand. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”

You feel horrible, watching as he heals his hand. There’s a soft green light coming from his other hand and you can see the darkened area where the water hit begin to come back to life.

As focused as you are on the healing magic, it takes you a moment to realize he’s a lot brighter than usual… because he doesn’t have a shirt on.

You gulp.

That is a  _ lot  _ of fire.

You don’t feel as scared as you probably should. You’ve been seeing Grillby more often, neither of you bothering to leave when the other enters a room now. You’re getting better.

But still, it’s a lot more terrifying when there’s more than just his hands and head exposed.

The fear lessens when a few things catch your eye. You had seen some of the scars on his arms before, only briefly… you hadn’t imagined that they were worse further up. There are larger, randomly laid out stripes of dim embers across his chest and your heart just hurts.

What the hell happened to him?

You have to tear your eyes away, though you’re pretty sure he caught you staring. He holds out his hand for you to see.

“It wasn’t bad,” he tells you. “I didn’t mean to startle you. I heard a noise and I thought I’d go investigate.”

“Oh…” you say, your face feeling hot, “that was probably when I almost fell down the stairs.”

He looks at you with surprise, then concern. The fiery eyes behind his glasses look you over for injury., “You fell?”

“ _ Almost _ ,” you correct him. “I didn’t mean to worry you, and I didn’t mean to hurt you…Shit, I’m sorry.”

His eyes still study you curiously, but he just shakes his head. “It’s no problem at all. A little bit of water isn’t a big deal… I think I did a number on the glass when I caught it though.”

You look at the glass. There’s a crack down the side and a part that looks a bit warped. 

“Here, I’ll get you another one,” he says, turning around to get one from the cabinet.

You have to cover your mouth from audibly gasping at the sight of his back. The scars are even more prominent, and lay in an almost ‘splatter’ type pattern. He turns back around with the glass, handing it to you, not quite meeting your eyes. He knows you’ve seen it all now, there’s no way this could get more awkward… You may as well ask.

“Grillby,” you start cautiously, your voice quivering, “What happened?”

You notice the flames on his head dim a bit, and for a moment you think he might be angry with you. Instead, he lets out a sigh and pulls the new glass back to him.

“If I tell you mine… will you tell me yours?” he asks quietly.

You hesitate at first. Do you really want to go through the whole story again? You’re worried for Grillby though, and your curiosity is starting to get the better of you. You nod in agreement after a few moments.

He puts the glass back in the cabinet and grabs out a mug. “What kind of tea do you like?”

“I’m not picky.” 

He walks over to another cabinet where an assortment of different teas are stored. You watch silently as he scoops some loose leaf tea into a baggie and sets it to the side. You begin to worry as he takes the mug to the sink and fills it with water, but you remember that he’s in the kitchen all day around water. Of course he’s going to be careful, the only reason he got hurt this time was because  _ you _ got water on him.

He sets the mug in the palm of his hand and waits. Right as you’re about to ask him what he’s doing, you see steam start rising from the mug. He then takes the tea bag and lowers it into the water.

“Follow me,” he says, leading the way through the kitchen.

You get to the back door, which you've never gone through, and he opens it. The two of you step inside and you look around. There's an entire new section of the house with a few different rooms. There's the obvious storage area with dry foods stacked on shelves, and a door that looks like it leads to a freezer further back. 

You follow Grillby through a doorway into a different room though, where a small dining table sits with two stools. He sets your mug of tea on the table and takes a seat. 

“Might want to give the mug a moment to cool,” he says as you sit down across from him.

Stretching his arms across the table towards you, he places his, palms facing upward. You get a good look at the scars that run up and down the length of his arms.

“If this is too much, let me know,” he tells you. “I know you asked, but… it can be a lot.”

You nod and lean forward a bit,  “It's okay. I want to know.”

“Well… I guess I should start off with why my shirt is off.”

“I was kinda wondering that,” you tell him. “You're usually wearing long sleeves.”

“Yeah. During the day I cover it all up. Not everyone needs to see it,” he says. “But at night, they have to breathe.”

You furrow your brow. You've never heard of scars needing to breathe before… then again, Grillby doesn't have skin like you. He turns one of his arms a bit, pointing to one of the scars on his forearm. You look at it carefully. As he turns, it seems to glow a little brighter and then dim again.

“Why though?” you ask.

“If they don't, I'll turn to dust,” he says bluntly.

Your eyes widen. Don’t monsters turn to dust when they die?

“They're killing you?” you blurt before you can stop it.

“Not necessarily,” he says. “I mean, they could if I let them. But letting them breathe overnight prevents it from happening.” 

“I'm guessing you can't heal them, or you would have already.”

He shakes his head. “There's a time frame between when a wound is inflicted and when it scars where I can heal… but I was not allowed to do so.”

Your jaw drops in shock. So not only did someone hurt him, but they forced him to endure the pain while it scarred over.

“Are you sure you want to hear this?” he asks. “You may not take some of it very well.”

Without thinking, you reach out and take one of his hands. He tenses up and you think he might pull away, but he doesn’t.

At this moment, he isn't a fire monster, he's a friend. A friend who is hurt and clearly wants to talk about things. There's no way you're going to turn him away now.

“Tell me,” you say. “I… I can take it.”

The corner of his mouth twitches up slightly. “You surprise me every day.”

His shoulders start to relax and you notice his flames burning a little brighter now. He runs his thumb slowly over the top of your hand and lets out a soft sigh.

“I hope you weren't planning on going back to sleep… because this may take a while.”


	19. Adding Fuel to the Fire

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Time for some more feeeeels! 
> 
> I love seeing your comments below, by the way! It really makes me smile, and I'm constantly refreshing my inbox!
> 
> Enjoy!  
> -Paige

“I already had a few scars before I got here,” Grillby starts. He points to a smaller one on his wrist. “That was just from accidents when we got to the surface… and from slaveholders once we were all captured. Some wounds just didn’t heal correctly, while others caused me to pass out before I was able to heal them at all.

“I was brought here, though, and it was okay for a while. Petra was especially nice to me at first, where Charles was just… well, he was Charles.”

He takes a deep breath and lets it out. You squeeze his hand reassuringly, hoping that this isn’t too difficult for him to talk about.

“I started cooking here after they learned it’s my best skill, and they had me healing any of their injuries, or injuries on the other monsters. It wasn’t bad at all.” He pauses, looking anywhere but at you, “And then I was forced into what is essentially your job now.”

Your job? ...oh.

_ “I won't lie, I've had some fun with some of the monsters here, and there are a few that I would love to have in here again,” Petra says, “but I want someone whose specific job is to make me happy. And there's just something about you…” _

You blink a few times in surprise, the memory in your head clear as day. When you look back at Grillby, his eyes meet yours with a look you can only interpret as concerned, like he’s wondering if you want him to stop.

You nod, encouraging him to continue. There's a rotting feeling in your gut that it only gets worse from here.

“It was fun for a while, until Charles got involved,” he says. “Not that Petra didn’t have her part in it all, but he really caused...things to escalate. It started small, as if my presence alone would throw him off, and he,well, he had his own forms of punishment to quell those bouts of jealous rage.”

He physically shakes his head as if he’s forcing the memories of those times away, then presses on.

“Anyway. I began to find a way around some of his commands. The way he would phrase some orders gave me room to work around them and, in the end, piss him off even more.”

“Loopholes,” you whisper.

He nods. “Yes, and as I’m sure you’ve figured out by now, they don’t take too kindly to their ‘pets’ being out of line.”

“Petra told me…” you say, “She told me that the room in the basement was for…”

He nods slowly. A chill runs up your spine. It makes perfect sense now.

“She let Charles take you down there.” 

His expression hardens. “No. She took me down there herself.”

“What?!” you sputter.

“There was one night where I did something I really shouldn't have,” he says. “I was trying to help her… but apparently she didn't want it.”

“D-did she give you those scars?” you ask.

“They both did.” 

You don't want to believe it, but why would Grillby lie about this? Everything he's told you so far lines up.

“Oh my god…” 

He isn’t looking at you anymore. Instead, his eyes are focused on your hand in his. His thumb is running lightly over your knuckles. You wonder what he’s thinking about right now, as he’s telling you all this. Is he reliving it all again in his mind? Maybe he should take a break.

“Grillby-”

“They ordered me to take everything they threw at me,” he says, pressing on before you can say anything else. “It’s like some sick, twisted fantasy of theirs to just torture others. I’d just lay there while they tossed buckets of water at me. They’d tell me to heal myself only enough so I wouldn’t die… and then they’d start all over.”

It sounds terribly familiar. If Charles had gotten his way, Grillby would have burned you over and over again after healing you. You realize how lucky it was Grillby heard the loophole Charles didn’t intend to leave so he could stop before it got any worse. 

His voice is very quiet now. “That went on for… days I think. I kept passing out, so everything is really fuzzy when I think back on it. I just know that I’ve never done anything to put me in that position since.”

You frown again, knowing that’s not quite true. He definitely disobeyed when he healed you, and if Petra hadn’t helped, you guess Grillby would still be down there.

The flames atop his head are so dim now, they’re barely flickering. He’s lost in his own thoughts now, still staring at your hand, but not focusing on anything. He looks so sad, so… lost. Tears prick at your eyes, but you try to hold them back.

“Grillby…” you speak again, giving his hand a squeeze. “I'm so sorry that happened to you.”

“I just don't understand why,” he says, his voice so quiet. “Why they did that… why she…”

He falls silent again. A tear slips down your face as you watch him. 

It takes him a few minutes before he speaks again. “I needed to tell you, because I want you to understand that it's dangerous here, you can't get too attached, it- ___?”

He jerks his head up at the sound of you sniffling. 

“Shit, I didn't mean to make you cry” He shifts uncomfortably in his seat, pulling his hands back in the process.

“I d-didn't mean to start crying,” you stutter, “I-I just… that's so sad, and I'm sorry that happened to you, and-”

You freeze. While you tried to explain, Grillby reached across the table and his hand is at your face and he's… wiping your tears? His hand is warm on your cheek, but not uncomfortably so. You almost forget to breathe, and when you finally do it sounds like you're gasping.

A flush of blue appears on Grillby’s face. “Uh… Sorry, I-”

“The t-tears,” you say softly, afraid that he's causing himself pain.

“It's not a problem,” he says, “they don't hurt.”

His thumb rubs softly against your cheek once more before he takes his hand back. You almost let out a whine as it leaves your face. His heat was so soothing you can feel it's loss in more than just your skin.

Though air hitting your face feels cool now, you know your face is burning up and that you're probably bright red.

“I know all of this is hard to hear,” he says, continuing on with the previous conversation, though his face is still rather blue, “but I really feel like you need to know what happened. I don't want you to end up like that.”

“I really appreciate it,” you tell him, “b-but I'm not sure what I can do to prevent anything… I need to follow their orders, but you also told me to keep my eyes open.”

“It will be tough,” he says. “You just can't let yourself become consumed in it all.”

You still aren't sure what he means by that, but you take his words to heart.

And then you remember your promise to him. You roll up the sleeves of your night shirt and lay your arms out on the table as he had. He glances at your scars, and back to your face.

“I had a mom, dad, and a little brother.”

You tell him their names. It feels terrifying to hear your voice say them again.

“We lived together in a small suburban home. It was nice. We were happy. They loved me very much, and I loved them.”

You squeeze your eyes shut as you recount what happened that night.

“One night… a school night… I went to bed early. I remember mom having trouble putting my little brother to bed so he ended up going to her and dad's room and-” You take a deep breath and let it out. “Anyway, something caught fire in the middle of the night. I still don't know what it was, but by the time my dad woke me up, nearly the entire back of the house was in flames.”

Your fists are clenched so tight that your nails are digging into your palms. You feel Grillby place his hand on one of them. Opening your eyes slightly, you see his bright orange hand through your tears.

“He was able to get me out first, while my mom was getting my brother… but they got trapped.” You pause to sniff but continue. “Dad went back. He told me to stay but I couldn’t. I ran back inside.”

Your next words get caught in your throat, and you let out a whimper. Grillby says nothing, but his hand tightens just a bit.

“Th-the house collapsed.” It’s no use stopping the tears now as you cry out.“I screamed as I saw it fall on them. I heard them in pain as it burned them… I.. I heard them dying.”

At this point you're inconsolable, your words broken by shuddering gasps for air.

“The house i-it collapsed on me… the burning.. th-the fire.”

You tilt your head down, the tears fall freely onto the table. It gets harder and harder to get the words out, but you press on.

“I passed out… was in the hospital, alive. But my f-family and home… gone.”

You pull your arms back, covering your face. You sob into them, your body shaking uncontrollably. It isn't long before you feel warm arms wrap around you. You lean against Grillby, eyes still shut out of fear that the sight of fire may cause you to panic, especially now.

He's quiet as you cry, listening to you as he rubs your head.

“A-and now I'm h-h-here… and I'm confused, I don't understand… Wh-what do I do?” you sob.

Grillby’s voice is gentle, the soft pops and crackles in his voice soothing instead of sending you into a panic. “I’m sorry about your family. I’m sure that was hard to deal with, and still is… but you’re not alone here.”

You try to catch your breath and wipe at your face. He continues speaking in an attempt to soothe you.

“I know it sometimes feels like nobody understands,” he says, “but I do. You’re free to talk to me anytime.”

You let out a ragged breath. After crying your throat feels tight.“Th-thank you, Grillby.”

You don’t want him to let go when he does. He steps back a couple of feet and you open your eyes to look at him.

Grillby’s flames are still dim, and you wonder if it means he’s sad or worried. He reaches to the table, taking your forgotten mug and handing it to you.

“Here, this might help,” he says.

You take the mug, nothing that it’s still slightly warm. As you take a sip, you notice it tastes unlike any other tea you’ve had before.

“What is this?” you ask before drinking more.

“It’s a blend of herbal teas,” he says with a smile, his flames burning even brighter. “With just a bit of magic added.”

You raise a brow. “Magic?”

“Yes. When I heat the water directly like I did earlier, it is infused with my magic,” he says. “Monster magic has general healing properties.”

Your mouth tingles just a bit as he explains; it feels very nice. You wonder how the magic works, and if it’s a part of Grillby… A blush creeps up your neck and you force back down the thought of actually consuming a piece of him.

He sits back down and the two of you are silent as you drink. Where you felt scared and upset before, you are now beginning to feel comforted and happy. Happy to be here talking to your friend. You look over at Grillby, who’s focused on you, but not on your face.

He’s looking at your arms in deep thought. You drop one hand from the mug and lay your arm back out on the table like before. He leans in slightly to get a better look, and his hand twitches like he’s about to reach out, but he doesn’t.

“Humans are strange,” he says eventually. “Your skin… how it heals over.”

“Well, I guess it would be weird to someone made out of fire. You know humans are made up of like, sixty percent water or something.” You look up at him curiously. “How does touching someone not hurt you, if water does?”

He shrugs. “I don’t know. Maybe it’s just whatever else you humans are made of.”

You go back to sipping your tea and watch him study your arm for a bit longer. He seems pretty interested in it, honestly.

“How are you feeling?” he asks after a few more minutes.

“Better,” you tell him. “This was nice. Thank you for the tea, and the talk.”

“I’m glad I could help. Would you… would you like to do this again?”

Your gaze meets his and, despite him not having human eyes, you can see by the expression he’s wearing that he hopes you’ll say yes. You wonder for a moment if all he does is stay in the kitchen all day. Does he get to spend time with the others? Is he lonely?

“Yeah,” you tell him with a small smile. “I would.”

 


	20. Crash and Burn*

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OH HEY, THERE'S A PLAYLIST FOR THE FIC NOW!  
> Check the end notes! :D I'm still adding new songs, so make sure to keep checking in!
> 
> So, for this chapter, there is smut! As always, it's sectioned off by the ~*~*~ in case you don't care to read it :)
> 
> Thanks for reading! I hope to see you in the comments!   
> Enjoy!  
> -Paige

Petra glares daggers at Charles as they stand in the middle of the bedroom. They're both angry about the events that have transpired recently, despite not confronting each other until now. 

“Why would you even consider doing something like that?” Petra asks. “What kind of sick joy do you get from hurting a human the worst way you know how?”

A shark-like smirk crosses Charles face. “Probably the same joy you get from doing the same to a monster.”

Her jaw clenches as she says, “That isn’t-”

He cuts her off. “Don’t start with that whole ‘monsters aren’t humans’ bullshit you always pull. That’s just a lie you tell yourself to excuse your pathetic actions.”

He takes a step toward her and she takes one back. She notices his hands are balled into fists. She could attempt to use her powers, but at this point she’s pretty sure he’s too far gone to actually be affected.

“You know, Petra, I may be a complete asshole, but at least I’m honest about it,” he says, approaching her again. “Unlike you, who just loves to play little mind games on everyone.”

“Oh please, you’re just jealous of my-”

Petra’s words are cut off as Charles pushes her against the wall, hand on her throat.

“Jealous?!” he nearly laughs. “More like completely pissed off at you using it on me constantly!”

His hand tightens on her neck. Petra does her best to hold her own, but she can’t help the small whimper that escapes her.

“You may have the ability to seduce anyone you want, but that’s  _ all  _ you have,” he spits at her, “but other than that, you’re completely worthless.”

The hand on her neck only releases so he can reel back and throw a punch at her. She yelps as his fist hits her left eye, leaving her disoriented with an instant massive headache.

“You think you’re smart and cunning with your stupid magic,” he says, “But without it, you wouldn’t be able to get any of these monsters to bend to your will, even with their collars!”

Before she can push herself up off the wall, another punch slams into her mouth. She slides down the wall, falling to the floor like a rag doll.

“You’ve gotten a little too brave since we got our last pet.” Charles glares down at her. “It’d be good for you to remember your place in this house. You may own these slaves, but you are not above them.”

Petra cowers on the floor as he storms out of the room. She had a feeling things would end this way once she decided to confront him, but she felt like she had to. Someone needs to try and stop Charles in his rampage, and she is really the only one with the power to do so… but she can’t even do that.

Her hand moves to her mouth, wiping away the blood she can feel running down her chin. Her lip is busted, and she’s sure her eye is going to bruise. She can’t walk around looking like this.

Now there’s only one thing to do.

 

* * *

 

Grillby stares out the window of his bedroom at the torrential downpour. He had woken up to it raining, and it hasn't stopped since then. If anything, it's gotten worse.

He can't help but wonder if this is what it feels like for humans to be surrounded by fire.

Of course, he'd be alright going out as long as he is clothed and shielded. But, even thinking about the protections doesn’t ease his anxiety.

He's always extremely uncomfortable when it rains. A voice in the back of his head keeps telling him that Charles or Petra could easily command him to walk outside to his death, though they've never hinted at it or anything, it's still a legitimate concern of his. They haven’t exactly proven they wouldn’t do just that.

A knock at the door pulls his attention away from the window. It's pretty late, and most people in the house are probably getting ready for bed, so he has a good idea who his visitor might be.

His assumption is confirmed when he opens the door and he sees Petra standing there. Normally, he'd be a little aggravated at her showing up this late, but that feeling goes away when he gets a good look at her face.  One of her eyes is beginning to bruise and there's a bit of blood at the corner of her mouth. He knowingly takes a step to the side and gestures for her to come in.

Sadly, this is nothing new. Charles has always had anger issues, which he enjoys taking out on her. In turn, she'd have Grillby heal her.

This song and dance is just one of the many reasons their relationship is rocky… and why Charles has a hand-shaped burn scar on his right arm.

Neither of them say a word as she steps in and walks over to the bed. Grillby closes the door to his room and goes over to her, sitting down next to where she sits on the edge.. 

“Look at me,” he says softly.

She turns to him slowly, her green eyes bloodshot and filled with tears. He shouldn't feel this bad for her, after everything she has done, but he can't help it.  Without a word, he cups the side of her face in his hand and begins the healing process. She closes her eyes and he watches as the bruising fades away, and the swollen part of her mouth goes back to normal. As the physical scars heal, he wishes it could take away the sadness in her eyes just as easily.

“I'm sorry about this, Grillby,” she apologizes, her voice hoarse.

“It's fine,” he replies out of habit. 

He can feel her gaze on him as he's looking for any more injuries. Does she want to say something? He isn’t sure, so he gives in and digs for more after a few silent moments.

“What happened this time?” 

“I confronted him about what he made you do to ___.” 

He can’t help but be a little surprised. He hadn’t really expected her to confront him., It’s usually more likely for her to just keep quiet and hope that it goes away after a while.

“And he lost his temper with you,” Grillby adds.

She nods. “It doesn’t help that I kept arguing with him.”

Grillby holds back a sigh at her words. “Petra, just because you make him angry doesn’t mean he has any right to hit you.”

He’s told her this so many times, but she still blames herself. Sure, she has her own issues that karma will get her for… but she doesn’t deserve the treatment she gets from Charles. There is no excuse for how he treats others.

“Still, he has a point on some things,” she says.

He doubts that, but he asks anyway. “Like what?”

She bites her lip, thinking on her words before giving an answer, speaking quietly when she does.  “J-just some of the things I do… things I say.I can be worse than him a lot of the time.”

“I don’t think so,” Grillby tells her.

Her eyes move from his face to his body. She reaches out and runs her finger tips over one of the scars on his chest. He can feel his face begin to heat up at her touch.

“I don’t know why you would think that,” she says, “after everything.”

Grillby takes the hand that’s still sitting in her lap. “Petra, I won’t lie, there are things you need to work on. But I know you can be better if you just try.”

She meets his gaze again, her green eyes now sparkling. She leans in first and he’s drawn in easily. Her lips press against his gently, the hand in his is now moving out of his grip to rest on his leg, the other still on his chest.

This isn’t uncommon for either of them. Petra has always made her way to Grillby for comfort and companionship that her husband just couldn't seem to give her.  Grillby should probably mind, but he really doesn't. Honestly, even though their relationship is pretty fucked up, he'd be lying if he said he didn't enjoy her company.

 

~*~*~*~*~

 

Petra swipes her tongue across his mouth and he stifles a moan. The wetness of it sizzles slightly against his flames, but not painfully so. It’s familiar. It’s welcome.

He deepens the kiss further and wraps an arm around her waist, pulling her against him. She welcomes the motion by moving herself off the bed and onto his lap.

“Grillby…” she whispers against his mouth. 

The sound of his name coming from her soft voice is enthralling. He can't help but push her out of his lap back onto the bed and lean over her. He stares into her eyes, the light from his flames illuminating them.  He loves the way his orange glow mixes with her green irises.

She reaches up and lays her hand against the side of his face. “You always look so charming, you know?”

If he wasn’t blushing before, he certainly is now. He can see the light on her face change from soft orange to blue. She’s smiling at him and he’s absolutely powerless against it. A part of him hates how much he wants her right now.

He kisses her harder in response, his hand moving up into her shirt to feel the skin of her stomach. It’s so soft and pliant under his fingers. She lets out a soft sigh when he moves up to one of her breasts, which just excites him further.

“Will you take your shirt off for me, please,” he asks huskily.

“Of course,” she says, her smile widening further.

He backs off her long enough for her to take her top off. She tosses it to the side and unhooks her bra before slipping it off as well. Patience evaporating quickly, he pushes her back down when she’s done, his mouth meeting hers as his hand goes right back to her breast.

She bucks against him and he can barely stand it. She’s beautiful and absolutely intoxicating. Her hands move down his chest to the top of his pajama pants. When she reaches his waistband and starts to pull downwards, his breath hitches in his throat.

“Let me help,” he says, pulling back again.

As he pulls off his pants, she moves to remove her own, but he stills her hand. He didn’t get the pleasure of removing her shirt or bra, but this is a good consolation. That done, they’re now completely naked in his bed. Her eyes run over his body hungrily and he is no different. He longs to touch every part of her.

Crawling on top of her again, he groans when his now exposed dick grazes against her slit. She’s so warm, even to him.

“Grillby, please,” she whispers, reaching for him once more.

He happy obliges, crushing her mouth with his once again. His flaming tongue mingles with hers, the wetness of her mouth providing a bit of stimulation to his senses, balancing somewhere between pain and pleasure. Everything about Petra toes that line. But he wants more.

Covering every part of her that he can, he moves until he presses into her slowly. His mouth twitches into a smile as she moans against him. They’ve been here several times, and she’s been with others… still, he knows he can pleasure her better than anyone else in this mansion.

When she says his name again, as his flaming cock is completely submerged inside of her, he doesn’t feel as powerless. He knows it isn’t hurting her, and he’s sure the warmth is something that turns her on even more.

“Pleeease,” she begs.

He gives into, like he always does, moving in and out of her easily. She feels so nice, so tight around him. The sensation of her wetness has him moaning into the crook of her neck, and nibbling on her collarbone just like he knows she likes.

“Harder, she whispers, arching her hips against him. He gasps at her movement and reciprocates, speeding up his thrusts. 

He can’t help but feel completely drawn to her, despite the magic abilities he knows she possesses. It doesn’t feel like she’s necessarily using it anymore… or her powers are  just so strong he’s used to it by now. Either way, there’s something there between them that he just can’t shake.

Scooping her up in his arms to pull her body against his he guides her into a new position. She lets out a loud groan as he flips her over  so she's on her hands and knees. He situates himself behind her, using his knees to spread her legs further, and then picks up his pace. 

Petra loves being the submissive one in bed. Grillby’s fucked her enough times to know. He reaches out and grabs her hair, twisting it around his hand before pulling it. Her head tilts back as she whines and he absolutely loves it.

There’s better leverage now to give her exactly what she wants. His other hand grips her hip as he pounds into her even harder than before. He’s lost in his lust for her, the overwhelming feeling of her body against his. It’s almost more than he can take.

She moans his name even louder. He can’t handle it. In this moment, he wants her more than anything. 

“Goddammit Grillby, just  _ fuck me as hard as you can _ !” she commands.

Even if his magic wasn’t responding to his collar, he’d do so willingly. Gripping her hair and digging his fingers into the swell of her ass, he slams into her, pulling out completely and then shoving in again. The pace is nothing short of frantic. She’s practically screaming at this point, and he’s so close to the edge, he’s seeing stars.

There’s not enough contact, he needs more. He pulls her up to where she’s on her knees, back pressed against him.  He’s gripping one of her breasts, playing with her as her head lolls back on his shoulder. He kisses her neck again, and that’s all it takes.

Her body shakes, and they both soar over the edge. She sputters out his name multiple times and it sounds so nice leaving her kiss-bruised lips. His eyes roll back as he cums inside her, whispering her name into her ear like a reverent prayer.

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

 

Grillby gently lowers them onto his bed, letting go so she can turn to face him as he lays down next to her. She’s trying to catch her breath and her eyelids are heavy as she looks over a him. There’s a glimmer in her gaze, and a sincere smile on her face. Her eyelids start to droop and soon her breathing is deep and relaxed.

“Grillby?”

“Hmm?” He’s almost asleep as well, but wants her to know he heard her. 

It takes another moment for her to respond. Petra’s voice slurs from happy exhaustion, but there’s no mistaking her words. “I...thank you.”

A moment before his eyes were closed, but now they’re wide open again. Grillby has a feeling he knows what she almost said.  But this could never work, and they both know it. Saying the words out loud won’t make it better. He pulls the covers up over her and kisses her head.

“Sleep well, Petra,” he whispers before closing his eyes and slipping into dreams of his own.


	21. Bursting into Flames

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm guessing not many people cared for the Petra/Grillby smut? XDDD
> 
> Well how about some Grillby/Reader fluff!!
> 
> Heehee. Enjoy, and please leave a comment below! It makes my day :)  
> -Paige

You do your best to keep quiet as you walk down the stairs, through the sitting and dining rooms, and into the kitchen. At least you manage to not trip this time. This is the second time you’re meeting Grillby in the middle of the night, and honestly, you’re rather excited. You have several questions you want to ask him, and you wonder if he has questions for you as well. 

Seeing him in passing was getting easier, and the last time you were alone with him was starting to erase the negative memories including Charles. These quiet moments at night with Grillby feel private, and precious.

You walk through the kitchen and to the back where the two of you talked last time. He’s already sitting at the table, shirtless, a mug of tea in your spot… but you’re surprised to see that he’s also drinking something.

“Hey, Grillby,” you say, walking over to your stool. “You alright?”

“I’m doing okay,” he says, sipping his drink. “How about you?”

“Today wasn’t bad.” You wrap your hands around the warm mug in front of you. “What’re you drinking?”

“Alcohol,” he tells you bluntly. “I mixed it up myself. Want a sip?”

He sets the glass of bluish liquid on the table, sliding it toward you. You reach out and grab it, pulling it toward your lips to taste, not even thinking how he drank out of the same glass. It has a faint fruity flavor, but you mostly taste alcohol. You cough a little and slide it back to him.

“Geez, Grillby. Strong enough for you?” 

He chuckles. “I have a high tolerance.”

You take a sip of your tea to get rid of the alcohol’s aftertaste. It tastes different from last time, but still very floral. 

“This blend is pretty good. Thanks,” you say as you take another sip.

Grillby nods, says that you’re welcome, and works on his drink, too. There’s a lull of silence you decide to break.

“Do you drink often?” you ask him.

“Not too much, anymore,” he says, looking into his glass before turning it up once more. “Just whenever I feel like it.”

You lean on your elbows against the table, watching him. He almost looks like he’s in desperate need of the drink, and proves it as he downs it completely.

“Is everything okay?” you ask, knowing that he answered nearly the same question moments ago. You get the feeling he isn’t being honest with you, and maybe not even himself.

He stares at the empty glass before setting it to the side. “I… don’t know.”

You frown, unsure how serious this is. “Grillby, did something happen?”

You’ve only just started spending one on one time with Grillby, and you’re not sure the best way to read him yet.

He sighs. “I’m just aggravated. It’s nothing new.”

The tone of his voice implies that he’d rather not talk more on the subject, so you let it drop. 

Grillby turns toward you in his seat, folding his hands together on the table. His face takes on a serious look. “I remember you saying, the last time we met, that you had questions for me.”

You shift nervously on your stool, feeling put on the spot. “Y-yes, I do, if that’s okay.”

“It’s no problem,” he tells you.

You think on which question you want to ask first, unsure if you should throw out the easiest one, or the most difficult. In the end, you decide to start with

“What was it, specifically, that you did to be locked in the basement?”

He fiddles with the empty glass in front of him. “I stepped out of line one night and attacked Charles.”

You set your mug down, your eyes wide. Of all the things you might have expected, it wasn’t this. “Woah, really?”

He nods. “I found him hitting Petra one night and I just… I had to stop him.”

At first, you feel a bit of surprise to hear that Charles would hit Petra, but then you remember all the things he’s done to you. It really doesn’t seem out of character for him.

“Hey,” you say, noticing his uncomfortable pause, “You don’t have to go into detail, you know, if it’s too difficult for you.”

He looks at you from over the top of his glasses. “Thank you.”

You give him a smile you hope is reassuring. “A-and you’re welcome to ask me any questions, as well.”

“Alright. I do have one question,” he says. “How did you become a slave?”

“I, um, it was willingly,” you tell him, staring back into your tea now. “I had been living on the streets for a while and it just got to the point where I couldn’t find food or shelter. I figured that if I turned myself over, I could at least stay alive.”

A sort of crease forms in the flames between Grillby’s brows. “I guess I can understand that.”

“Would you do something different in my situation?” you ask.

“I don’t know, honestly.” He props his elbow on the table and rests his chin on his hand. “Giving up your freedom was a difficult decision, I’m sure.”

“It was, until my stomach felt like it was eating itself,” you tell him. “Honestly though, out of any place I could’ve gone, I’m glad I was brought here.”

“Really? I’m sure there are better places out there, places where you wouldn’t be abused.”

You shrug. “Probably, but here I’ve got Papyrus, Petra, and you… besides, it isn’t like I would have had a choice of where to go anyway, so I might as well try to make the most of what I have here.”

There’s a hint of blue to his flames that you try to ignore that bloomed when you included him. He grabs his glass and pushes up off his stool.

“That’s true,” he says. “I’m going to make another drink, do you want anything?”

You look down into your mug. “Nah, I’ve still got some tea left. Thank you though.”

He nods and you watch him walk off, staring at the scars along his back as he disappears out of the room. You’re left alone to your thoughts for a bit, and you can’t help but wonder why it feels so easy to talk to Grillby about all this. Perhaps it’s just been a long time coming and you need to get it off your chest, or maybe it’s because Grillby’s been through a ton of shit himself and he just seems to understand. Instead of pity, he shows empathy. Either way, it feels nice to get this stuff out in the open.

Grillby comes back with a new drink and sits down. “So, did you have any other questions for me?”

“Yeah, but if you don’t feel like answering, you don’t have to,” you tell him.

He takes a sip of his drink then smiles at you. “It’s fine. It’s good to talk about these things every now and then.”

You silently agree. Could he read your mind, because he voiced exactly what you were thinking before he came back. As you focus on the scars on his chest, you suddenly know which question you want to ask next.

“Will your scars ever disappear?”

“They’ll probably fade over time and be replaced with flames. At least, the less-severe ones will.” 

You watch as he begins looking over the scars on one of his arms. Some of them are definitely lighter than others, and it’s a little difficult to tell them apart from his normal flames. It’s so fascinating, the way the fire that makes up his body is so different from your own skin, but pretty similar at the same time. 

“Will yours?”

You look back up at his question He’s eyeing you curiously now, which makes you blush slightly.

“I don’t know,” you say, looking at your own arm. “Mine cover a large portion of my body and are pretty deep. I’ve had them most of my life. I really doubt that they’ll ever heal that well on their own.”

You wonder if this will happen each time the two of you meet, the both of you studying each other’s scars. It’s just one of the things you have in common, and it’s easy to get stuck on it.

“I wish I could heal them for you.”

He says it so quietly, you almost don’t catch it. Is he speaking directly to you, or simply thinking aloud? Either way, his words strike a chord in your heart, and you wish you could heal his too.

 

* * *

 

Grillby is fond of your company, fond of the talks the two of you have been having lately. 

Tonight, he had originally planned on drinking himself into a stupor to ignore the obvious, unhealthy emotional attachments that have been plaguing him for a while now. The night he spent with Petra brought up things he’d ignored for too long. But when you mentioned wanting to talk more with him, he started diluting his drinks a bit. You don’t need to see him drunk.

So he lets himself get slightly buzzed, and now he finds himself wanting to ask you more questions. Stupid, insignificant questions like what your favorite drink is, what kinds of places you’d travel to if you could, even what time of day you prefer.

He also wonders what the rest of your scars look like. At first it’s an innocent thought; he simply wants to see how similar your scars are to his. How far they go. Then, his thoughts stray, and it  becomes him thinking about how you’d look without clothing.

His face heats up and he tries to focus on your next question. Perhaps he shouldn’t have drank at all.

The two of you talk for around an hour before you start yawning. Grillby smiles, the tea has probably helped you relax a bit, which was his intention.

“Looks like someone is ready to go to sleep,” Grillby teases.

You smile back at him, and it’s disarming how much it affects him. “You’re not wrong. It’s been a long day.”

The both of you stand and Grillby takes your empty mug and his glass. Your eyes are beginning to droop a little and he has to stifle a laugh. He’s beginning to find you adorable.

Attempting to ignore that feeling, he heads toward the kitchen. He can hear your soft footsteps behind him as he makes his way to the sink, where he sets the dishes down in the sink to deal with in the morning.

Grillby turns toward the door to see you waiting on him. Were you wanting to talk some more?

“Are you headed to bed?” you ask as he walks over to you.

“Yeah, I have an early start in the morning,” he says.

He thinks he sees a flash of disappointment cross your face, but it happens so quickly that he wonders if he imagined it.

You yawn again. “That’s good. You should probably get some sleep, we’ve already stayed up so late.”

He pushes the door open for you and you both head out to the sitting area. Grillby questions himself if it would be weird to ask if you need to be walked to your room. It is right up the stairs, you are more than capable of getting there on your own. Still, he likes to make sure.

“___, are you-”

“Ah ha! I knew you two were down here!”

You and Grillby jump and turn toward the voice. Grillby grits his teeth in anger as his eyes focus on the one person he did not want to see tonight.

Charles steps forward. “I had a feeling the two of you were sneaking around. What, you have some sort of kink about getting burned now? Figures someone like you would fall for their abuser.”

The question is directed at you, and Grillby is now seething with rage. He starts to say something, but is surprised into silence when you speak up first.

“It is not  _ his  _ fault for burning me!” you tell him, stepping forward. “You forced him to do that!”

Charles laughs in your face. “Oh, looks like someone finally figured out how to use their voice!” He grabs your arm and yanks you toward him. “You’re going to wish you hadn’t though.”

Grillby starts moving as soon as your shared master grabs you until Charles orders him to stop. He complies to the warning from his collar, gritting his teeth and glaring daggers at Charles.

“You are to go back to your bedroom and not come out until it’s time for you to cook breakfast,” he tells him before looking back to you. Each word is enunciated with purpose, no room for loopholes “And  _ you _ are to come with me.”

Grillby’s collar vibrates against him, and yours does the same. Your eyes meet and he watches helplessly as Charles drags you away. His magic stirs within him. He has to move, he has to follow the command, or face the dire consequences.

Filled with fear for you and hate for Charles, he lets the power of the collar take him to his room, closing him inside for the night.

 


	22. Can't Take the Heat

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: While this is not a noncon chapter, there are some things alluding to previous noncon stuff. Just a heads up!
> 
> BTW, keep a watch out in the comments from now on! My friends Vividlylost and With_a_Whisper have started a little 'blooper reel' to cope with the angst of the fic XD All the characters in the story are just actors and there are bloopers from each scene. I might end up making a separate work with them on this, it's hilarious!
> 
> BUT IN THE MEANTIME, here's some actual angst! :D  
> Enjoy!  
> -Paigey

Grillby paces in his room, unable to relax knowing that Charles has you in his grasp. He’s been running his words over and over in his mind for hours, trying to figure out a loophole in this command. But the collar knows where he’s supposed to be at what times. The magic controlling it knows to only let him in a certain area at that particular hour. Everytime he goes to try and open the door, it forces him back, painfully.

He wants to fight it, but he can’t. He knows he would be no use to you as Dust. His mind is racing, wondering what Charles is doing to you, if you’re still with him, if anyone can stop it. He just knows you’re going to need healing, but he can’t do it until he’s out of this room. It isn’t like last time, where he could heal your pain immediately after. This time, you’ll have to wait.

He rests his forehead against the door, hand on the knob again. He doesn't want you to have to wait. He knows how horrible it is to wait on that pain to dissipate on it's own, if it ever does at all. He doesn't want you to deal with that.

Those memories were forced from his mind, but knowing you’re in there is bringing them all back. When he closes his eyes, he can see his captor, he can feel agony, the torment. He remembers that humiliation all too well.

The collar vibrates a warning and his eyes snap back open at the feeling, looking for what he did to prompt it. He looks down at the doorknob, which is now warping under the heat of his hand. He lets go and takes a step back. There’s a scorched place in the door where his other hand was. He’s letting himself get too angry, too emotional.

Turning back to his room, he tries not to think about his past. He’ll allow himself to focus on helping you, and that’s it. He checks the time. There’s still another two hours until he’s able to leave and go start on breakfast, though he knows that breakfast will be the last thing on his mind, collar be damned.

Sitting on the edge of the bed he buries his face in his hands. He knows it isn’t that simple. If the collar wills it, he won’t be able to fight it. The feeling of worthlessness falls over him, it swallows his very soul. He probably shouldn’t feel deeply about it, but he does, he can’t help it.

He truly cares for you, but he can’t do anything to protect you now.

 

* * *

 

You’re laying half-naked on the floor of the study. You know you’re bleeding, you just aren’t sure from where. Your body is in so much pain, you feel like you’re going into shock. Why is this happening to you? What did you possibly do to deserve this? Does the world just hate you?

You stare up at the ceiling, or try to, your vision blurry. Death would be a welcome relief right now, you think. You were stupid to believe that this place was best for you, that you were better off here than under any other slave owners. Didn’t you just talk to Grillby about that? Irony is a bitch. You were wrong, and your assumptions continue to be wrong. You can’t do anything, you have no one, there is nothing here for you.

There’s a painful, stabbing feeling in your stomach that makes you wince. Did he damage your organs? It certainly feels unlike any other pain you’ve felt before.

You hear the door to the study open and instead of cowering in fear, you stay still, close your eyes, and accept whatever terrible fate you’ll be dealt.

“___?!”

Your eyes pop back open at the unexpected voice, “Papyrus?”

The skeleton rushes over to where you lay, kneeling down next to you. You try looking at him, but your eyesight is blurring more from your dizziness and tears.

“____, what happened to you?!” His voice is brisk and panicked., “Are you okay?! How long have you been in here?”

“I-it was Ch-Ch-” You’re stuttering, unable to get the name out of your mouth.

“Oh gosh, friend.” Papyrus brushes your hair back. “I need to get you to Grillby, he can heal you.”

_ Grillby... _

You remember being split up from him when Charles caught you both. Didn’t he order him to his room? 

“In his r-room,” you try telling Papyrus, your mouth still not cooperating with your words.

“Don’t worry, ___, I will take you to him.” 

You whimper as Papyrus moves his arms under your back and knees as carefully as he can. He keeps apologizing quietly as he holds you against him and stands up. 

He starts walking at a brisk pace, trying to hurry but also not wanting to cause more injury to you. You’re finding it hard to breathe, and for some reason the only thing you can think on is how humiliating it is for Papyrus to find you, and how you don’t want Grillby to see you this way. 

“Grillby!” Papyrus calls out once he gets to the elemental’s room, “Open up, I have ___ and they need healing!”

You hear a door open and Grillby say something to Papyrus. You’re moving again, and it isn’t long before you’re lowered onto a soft bed. Through your watery eyes, you can see Grillby and Papyrus standing beside you.

“What did he do to you, ___?” Grillby asks, though you don’t think he’s necessarily looking for an answer. His voice is much softer than Papyrus’s.

“Who?” Papyrus asks, “Grillby, do you know what happened with them?”

“Papyrus, I…” Grillby pauses, contemplating his words, “I’ll tell you in a bit, but I need to heal them before they bleed out too much.”

You feel Grillby’s hand on your chest and the warmth begins to spread through you quickly. It’s becoming easier to breathe, and the wounds that felt so painful are starting heal over. As your senses heighten and everything becomes clearer, you’re more in tune with how you feel and what has happened.

And here you are, once again, crying as Grillby is healing you. How many times is this going to happen? How many times will you be a liability to him?

_ God, you’re pathetic. _

“Papyrus, can you do me a favor, please,” Grillby speaks up.

“Of course, what is it?”

“Can you go to the kitchen and get one of the other cooks to start breakfast. Tell them I will be there shortly.” 

You aren’t looking toward them, but you hear the door to the room open and close. Grillby’s hand is no longer on your chest, but on your shoulder.

“____… I am so, so sorry,” he says in such a heartbreaking, troubled voice. “I couldn’t find a way to get to you, I couldn’t stop him.”

“It’s n-not your fault,” you tell him, your face still turned away. He’s already seen everything, but you still can’t bring yourself to see his expression.

His hand rubs your arm, spreading a softer warmth along you. “I know. But this is all because of me, I brought you into this mess. I’m sorry.”

You sniff, but don’t say anything. You don’t know what to say. Your wounds might be healed, but fuck does your heart hurt, a heavy stone in your chest.

“I have to go to the kitchen soon, and I need to catch Papyrus up on a few things,” he says, “but I’ll be back soon. You need to rest, and you’re welcome to stay in here as long as you need.”

“O-okay,” you whisper, your voice breaking again.

There’s a bit of silence, you can still feel Grillby’s hand on your arm. You both know he needs to leave, but for some reason it seems he can’t bring himself to yet.

He whispers your name again, and when you don’t respond he says, “Can you look at me, please?”

You swallow the lump in your throat and close your eyes as you turn your head toward him. Slowly, you open them once more, tears still spilling out and falling across your face. He’s trying to smile at you, but it’s coming across so sad, so forced. He moves his hand to your head, running it over your hair with soothing petting motions

“It’s going to be okay,” he tells you, voice as gentle as his hand. “I know it’s hard to believe, but it will be.”

You sniff and nod slightly. You try to take his word, you know he wants to help you. You hate that he even has to in the first place.

“I’ll be back soon, you lay here and get some rest.” He freezes before standing up. “Oh, I bet it’s probably a little chilly in here to you, hold on.”

He stands and walks over to his closet, bringing back a large, plush blanket. He drapes it over you, making sure all of your limbs are covered. He meets your eyes again, his smile a bit more genuine.

“That feel alright?” 

The corner of your mouth twitches up. “Y-yeah. Thank you, Grillby.”

“It’s no problem,” he says. “I’ll be back in soon to check on you. Get some sleep.”

He heads to the door, but you call out to him once more before he opens it. He turns back to look at you.

“I’m sorry.” You lift your head slightly to look at him again, “I’m really s-sorry about this.”

He takes a step toward you, his hand slightly reaching out before he stops in his tracks. The same hand raises to his collar and he sighs helplessly.

“This isn’t your fault, either,” he says, “I’ll be back. I promise.”

You watch as he leaves, closing the door behind him. You lay your head back on the pillow and close your eyes, letting the last few tears in them fall before falling into a deep, dreamless sleep.

 

* * *

 

Petra tosses the day’s stack of mail onto the end table in the sitting room. Usually she leaves it for one of the monsters to sort through, but something catches her eye. 

She picks up what appears to be a catalog from the mall she took you to a while back. A smile crosses her face at the memory. The holidays will be here before she knows it, and now would be a good time to see what kinds of sales she can take advantage of. Maybe she’ll end up getting you a new sweater, since she knows you like them so much. Her mouth twitches into a smile. And she likes you in them, too.

She opens the plastic covering and pulls out the magazine. Immediately, there’s a strange feeling stirring in her soul when her fingers touch the glossy cover. She runs her hand over the catalog, sensing something that wouldn’t be detected by any normal human.

There’s magic stamped into address label. She looks around to make sure nobody else is in the sitting room before opening the book itself. Carefully, she flips through each page until she gets to one that feels very odd, physically and magically. She fiddles with it until a small piece of paper slips out of it. Her brow furrows as she studies it, unable to decipher the strange code printed on it.

She puts it back into the catalog and immediately rushes back to her bedroom, where she deposits it into the drawer of her bedside table. She’s unsure what this is about, and she doesn’t know how to break the code, but she’s pretty sure someone is trying to get in touch with one of the monsters here.

Petra smiles to herself. She’s going to figure out who it is, and she’s going to do so without Charles’ help.


	23. Slowly Burning

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so freaking excited for the next like, 10 chapters of this story... who am I kidding, I'm excited for all of it, haha!
> 
> Thank you to all the new readers out there! I really hope you are liking the story so far! If you are, please leave a comment! It brightens my day :)
> 
> Enjoy!  
> -Paige

Grillby is on his way back to his room after breakfast has been served and cleaned up. He was able to pull Papyrus to the side while everyone was eating and told him about what Charles has been doing. He’d tried to not go into details, but Papyrus wanted to know everything. He’d seemed so determined to know and to help with whatever was hurting his friends. 

Papyrus took it better than Grillby thought he would. He didn’t try to argue back or anything. He’d simply listened and processed the information. Still, this would have been so much easier with Sans around, and Grillby found himself wishing terribly that he was there.

But for now he needs to put that aside. You’re still in his room, hopefully sleeping, and he needs to make sure you’re alright. The injuries that were visible to him when Papyrus brought you in were pretty severe, even for Charles. You were bleeding a lot, and Grillby is thankful that Papyrus was able to clean up the blood drips in the hallways before most of the house awoke. Still, he’s definitely going to need to wash his bed sheets.

He makes sure to be as quiet as possible when opening the door to his room. There’s an overwhelming feeling of relief when he sees that you’re still there… 

_ In his bed. _

He very quickly squashes that thought down. Now is not the time. You’ve been hurt, and he’s there to help.

He approaches to see that you’re in the exact position he left you in, and still sleeping. He’s glad you’re getting the rest you need, and he’s glad he hasn’t seen Petra or Charles. Especially Charles. Grillby doesn’t know if he can keep himself from giving him another scar.

Looking over at you sleeping, he can’t help but smile. Your mouth is wide open, and you keep letting out these adorable little snoring sounds. He’s only really paid attention to Petra sleeping a few times, and he’s still fascinated by all the faces and noises humans can make as they sleep.

Unconsciously, he reaches out, brushing some of your hair from your face. He freezes when you turn your face into his hand, pushing your cheek into his palm. You let out a small sigh of comfort and lie still. 

He isn't sure what he should do, but he doesn't want to move. He slowly lowers himself to sit on the very edge of the bed, doing his best to not disturb you. 

Grillby knows this situation is weird, and that is putting it lightly. This human, who he's known for a couple of months at most, has quickly become important to him. He knows what you're going through, he feels so strongly that you need help getting through it all, and he is drawn to be that person for you.

Not only that, but you seem like a genuine person, even more of a reason why you should be protected. You've got a lot of kindness in you and he hates to see you in this position.

You make a soft mewling noise and nuzzle his hand, which sends a wave of fresh heat to his face. He probably shouldn't be watching you sleep, that's a little creepy. 

He begins to pull back when you let out a noise of protest and try to reach out for his arm, the blanket blocking your movements. A laugh escapes him before he can cover his mouth and your eyes pop open. You blink a few times before focusing your eyes on him. 

He watches you carefully as multiple emotions cross your face in a short time span. There’s wide-eyed fear at first, likely at fire being the first thing you see, but recognizing his face, you look relieved… then there’s confusion.

“Grillby?” Your voice is hoarse. “What’s going on?”

For a moment he’s slightly panicked, wondering if you have forgotten the night’s events.

“Do you remember Papyrus bringing you in here earlier this morning?”

You sit up slightly and glance at your surroundings. It doesn’t take long for realization to hit, and the first thing you do is lift up the blanket and look down at yourself, automatically cringing.

“I healed you,” Grillby says.

“Yeah… but,” you push the blanket off to reveal your blood-stained clothing and sheets, “I’ve completely ruined your bedding!”

Grillby’s brows knit together. “That’s what you’re worried about?”

You look at him, frowning. “Well yeah. It’d be one thing if it were my sheets, but-”

“___,” he interrupts you, his voice gentle. “You were hurt, very badly. You lost a good bit of blood. Bedding can be replaced. You cannot.”

You look back down at your body. “It was pretty bad, yeah?”

“We don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to.” 

He notices your eyes welling up with tears, but doesn’t bring attention to it. You’ve cried nearly every time you’ve met with him lately, and though he’s touched that you feel comfortable enough to show your emotions around him, he doesn’t want to make it worse. You wipe your eyes on your sleeve and take a deep breath in.

Grillby ignores the twitching of his hand, wanting to reach out to you. He’s been so damn touchy-feely lately and isn’t quite sure why, but he’s afraid the motion will cause you to crumble right now. 

“Thank you for healing me.” You say to him, putting on your best smile, “I wish I could repay you.” 

“You don’t owe me anything,” he tells you. “You were in pain, you-”

Grillby’s words die in his throat as his eyes fall on your arm. There’s a fresh, pink scar across the older burn scars there. That certainly wasn’t there last night, and Grillby hadn’t looked closely after he’d healed you earlier.

“Grillby?” 

You follow his gaze and see the scar as well. He expects you to freak out, but you barely react at all. In fact, you seem more worried about him.

“What's wrong?” you ask.

“You were in there for a longer time than I thought,” he says, his voice barely above a whisper. “I didn't heal you in time.”

“In time for wha-”

It dawns on you, looking at the new scar again. He's sure you remember what he said about the short window of time he has between healing a wound completely and it scarring.

He doesn't stop himself from reaching out now, his hand a bit shaky. He takes your forearm gently and looks it over. He thought he'd have time since the two of you had stayed up so late last night. Had he not been paying attention to the time?... or was he just hopeful that this sort of thing wouldn't happen?

How long did you lay there in such pain before Papyrus found you?

“Grillby!”

His face jolts up to meet your eyes. You must have been trying to get his attention, and now you're looking at him with such wide eyes, full of concern.

“It's okay,” you tell him, your voice gentle, soothing. “It's just a scar. I have plenty of them, one more doesn't hurt.”

He knows you're trying to make him feel better, but that just breaks his heart more. That, and by the amount you were bleeding, there are likely more scars where he can't see.

“I'm sorry,” he tells you, not knowing what else to say.

Your face goes from puzzled to… angry? Your jaw is clenched and your eyes are filled with tears again.

“This is  _ not _ your fault,” you say bluntly. “Stop feeling like any of this is your fault, because it isn't!”

Grillby stares in shock. This is definitely a side of you he hasn't seen, and he's not sure if he wants to.

A tear spills from your eye and you sit up straighter, your hands clenched into fists now.

“This was Charles’s doing, not yours!” You raise your voice slightly. “You weren't the one who held me down in there and cut me! You didn't hit me over and over until I couldn't breathe! You didn't… You…”

Grillby doesn't waste time in reaching out and pulling you to him, letting you bawl into his shirt. It seems like this is the way the two of you always end up together, but that's what you need, isn't it? He knows you hold all of this inside, and he's the only one you feel comfortable letting all of it out to.

He doesn't mind, and he's sure if he could cry as a human does, he'd be right there with you. As it is, he can feel the light from his flames dim in response to your pain.

“You're right,” he says, stroking your hair. “I'm sorry that I upset you by blaming myself. It's just difficult to place the blame anywhere else when-”

“When you can't do anything about it,” you finish in a choked whisper.

“Yeah,” he says, “exactly.”

You continue to cry as Grillby holds you close. He hates that you're in pain, he hates that he can't do anything to help. He wants to protect you from all of this, from Charles. But it seems like there isn’t really a way to do that with him being able to control the two of you with mere words.

Despite all that, in this moment, Grillby makes a promise to himself. He’s going to keep you safe from Charles from now on, even if he has to put himself in harm’s way to do so.

 

* * *

Petra pours over her work in the middle of the night, trying to crack the code she’d found in the mail. She’s sure that a lot of the monsters, and possibly Charles, are wondering why she’s been in her room most of the day, but she can’t help herself. It’s driving her crazy. Someone has magic abilities and is trying to contact one of the monsters under her roof, and she’s pretty sure she’s already figured out who that monster is: Papyrus.

Under normal circumstances, Petra would immediately tell Charles about this, and the monster in question would be punished. But this is Papyrus, the sweet, innocent skeleton who always follows the rules and has never tried to disobey at all. There’s no way he would have tried to contact another monster outside of the mansion. So why was there someone trying to contact him?

She doesn’t want to make any assumptions just yet, not until she’s absolutely sure that’s what is going on here. If it is, well…

Will she tell Charles?

She leans back in her chair and sighs. Her mind is screaming that yes, she should absolutely tell him. But there’s this tiny voice in the very back that’s telling her not to. 

_ Isn’t it about time you stopped running to him for everything? _

That voice comes out every now and then, and it terrifies her. She’s never taken advice from it, it goes against everything she’s ever learned while being with Charles. Yet, it’s so very tempting right now.

She leans back over the papers scattered on her desk. Before she makes any decisions, she has to figure out exactly what the message has to say.


	24. Fan the Flames

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a heads up, things start getting pretty heated in the last scene ;)
> 
> Oh boyyyy am I excited for 25 XD
> 
> I appreciate any and all comments left below! <3
> 
> Enjoy!  
> -Paige

Grillby stands in the middle of Petra’s bedroom, glaring at her with disappointed eyes. He’d just told her about the things Charles had done to you, about the scars you now have since he wasn’t able to heal you in time.

And, while she seems concerned, she’s made it clear that she can’t do anything about it.

“I don’t understand you,” Grillby tells her, his voice taking on a very serious tone. “How are you unable to stand up to him? The two of you have been married for years, not to mention you have actual magic!”

“That doesn’t change anything!” Petra snaps at him. “You know damn well I’d fight back if I could!”

She’s directly in front of him, her parakeet-green eyes piercing him to his core. He stands his ground, unphased. She can order him to do whatever she desires, but he’s been through so much that he doesn’t even care at this point. What could she possibly have him do now? Kill Charles?

...He’s kind of hoping for that, honestly. 

He’s not a murderer though, and they both know that. So he just stares back into her eyes until she breaks contact. She sighs angrily and takes a few steps away from him.

“I don’t know what to do. It’s fucked up what he’s been doing lately, especially to ___. But I just… I can’t stop him!”

He doesn’t believe a word she’s saying. “You can’t seduce him into doing what you want, like you do with the rest of us?”

She groans and looks back at him. “Okay, Grillby, I get your point. Seriously though, it’s getting more and more difficult to do that to him.”

“Because he’s able to fight it, or because he’s talked you into not doing it at all?” 

She doesn’t answer, which either means she doesn’t know, or it’s the second option. He knows how good Charles is at convincing Petra to do or think certain things. All abusers are that way, making their victims believe they have the last word and that there’s nothing that can be done about it.

Grillby’s shoulders relax and he takes a step toward her. “Petra, if you really want to stand up to him, you aren’t alone. I can help you.”

She frowns at him, and says, “He could just order you to turn against me.”

“And you can do the same to him,” He reminds her. “You both have complete ownership over me.”

Her brow creases with worry. “Grillby, I’m not going to put you in a position that could be dangerous t-”

He fixes her with a look letting her know just how ironic her statement is and she shuts up.

“Look, what I mean is that having you in here with both of us could be a bad idea if we both start ordering you around,” she says after a moment. “Your collar could malfunction or something. I don’t want it hurting you.”

Grillby could give yet another snarky remark about how that hasn’t stopped her before, but he decides against it. She has a point, the collar getting overwhelmed by too many commands would be a terrible outcome, and he’d rather not get himself into that situation.

He steps even closer and rests his hand on her shoulder. “I believe you can do it, you just need to believe in yourself.”

“You’re way too nice, ya know.” 

“I know,” he says matter-of-factly.

The corner of her mouth lifts and she narrows her eyes at him. “You know, you’ve been quite sassy lately. What’s gotten into you?”

He raises a brow. “What do you mean?”

She turns to face him head on. “The past few times I’ve talked to you, you’ve seemed more upbeat… I believe it started around the same time you and ___ began getting more comfortable around each other.”

He’s taken aback by her words and cheeky look. What is she implying?

“I know the two of you have been spending some time together,” she says, her smile growing wider, “there’s nothing wrong with that, I’m just saying…”

Grillby bites back his surprise and shrugs. “We just have a lot in common, that’s all.”

She chuckles. “You’re blushing, love.”

He knows it. He can’t fight down the heat in his cheeks. 

“Well, I’m sure there’s still some things that need to be finished up in the kitchen,” he says, starting to walk away.

“Wait, Grillby!” She reaches out to stop him, laughing. “I’m sorry, I’m just messing with you.”

He smiles and rolls his eyes before turning back to her. “Alright, what else did you want to talk about then?”

Petra’s smile drops just a bit, but there’s still a glimmer in her eyes as she meets his gaze. “I’m going to try to find a way to fix this, okay?”

He isn’t sure if he really believes her words, but he gives her the benefit of the doubt for now.

“I’ll hold you to it,” he says, “I’m here if you need help though.”

“Thank you.” 

He gives her a nod before leaving her to go start getting the kitchen ready for the next meal.

\--

Petra smiles to herself as she watches Grillby walk out. She didn’t want to push him on the topic, but she is curious about his relationship with you. She knows for certain that he cares greatly for you, whether it’s just out of his want to protect you or something else, she doesn’t know. Either way, there’s obvious chemistry there.

A pang of jealousy hits her suddenly, over both of her lovers. She walks over and sits in her desk chair, running a hand up through her hair. This is the first time she’s ever felt like this, especially between two others, and especially one of them being a monster.

She’d loved Charles once a long time ago, but that fizzled out around the same time monsters came to the surface. Now she just stays with him because… well, she isn’t really sure why when she stops to think about it.

But the way she feels for Grillby and for you is much different. The fire monster is fun, and different. He’s such a kind soul and is always willing to please and help in any way he can. Petra has never been treated as nicely by anyone as she has by him.

You, on the other hand, are human as can be, but still just as interesting. You were very meek when she first met you, but you warmed up easily, and once that happened your true personality came out. You don’t realize it, but you’re very brave in your actions. You’re curious, and you aren’t afraid to ask tough questions. You’re also very sweet, and very submissive.

Petra clearly has feelings she needs to work out, and she definitely will. 

She looks over at the drawer that holds her nearly finished cipher for the note she found.

The feelings will just have to wait a little longer.

 

* * *

You make your way to Petra’s room in the middle of the night, having received a message earlier to meet her. You have a feeling that it’s most likely just her wanting sex, which you’re fine with at the moment. It’s been a bit since you’ve been touched in a loving manner, so you’re actually rather excited.

Standing at the door, you give a few light knocks and it opens pretty quickly. Petra stands before you in a black silk robe, her shiny hair blending into it as it cascades over her shoulders. 

“___, love, it’s so good to see you this evening,” she says, taking your hand and pulling you inside. “How have you been today?”

“I’ve been alright,” you say, watching her close the door. “You?”

Petra smiles and leads you across the room. “It’s been a tiring day for me, which is precisely why I called you in here.”

“I thought that might be why.”

She lets out a soft chuckle and the two of you stop near her bed. She stands directly in front of you, fiddling with your clothing.

“Are you comfortable with this right now?” she asks, slipping her hand underneath the bottom of your shirt. 

The feel of her on your skin is intoxicating and you involuntarily push yourself into her touch.

“Y-yeah,” you stutter, “this is… nice.”

Petra immediately begins pulling your clothes off, making sure to lightly run her fingers along your skin in the process. It isn’t long before you’re standing there naked, your clothes in a pile at your feet. She takes your hand once more and leads you over to the bed where the two of you sit. She’s still in her robe, though it’s a bit looser now. You can see the tops of her breasts and you wonder if she’s completely naked under it.

Leaning in, her lips touch yours so delicately it sends a shudder through your body. 

“Have I told you lately how beautiful you are?” she whispers against you. “You’re really something, you know dear?”

You gulp as she moves to your neck, trailing kisses down to your collarbone. It’s getting difficult to think as you focus on her movements. Her hands move toward your hips and you bite your lip as she pulls you closer to her.

“I’ve been waiting for this all day,” she sighs.

She finally kisses your mouth and you can’t help but push yourself into it. You can feel her hands begin to move over your body and you realize you’re a lot more excited than you initially thought. Your body aches, and a part of you wants to push her down onto the bed yourself.

But suddenly there’s a noise from the other side of the room and you freeze, eyes popping open.

“Petra? Are you in here?”

The familiar voice sends you into a panic. You scramble to cover yourself with the bedsheets and are successful just as your friend enters the room.

Grillby sees Petra first. 

“There you are, I’m guessing you-” He stops when he spots you, his face instantly growing blue in color. “Uh, maybe I’ll come back later.”

“Hold on, Grillby,” Petra says with a smile as she turns to him. “I called you in here for a specific reason, love.”


	25. A Match Made in Heaven*

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: SMUT  
> As always, the actual stuff is blocked off with ~*~*~ just in case you dont wanna read it, though the chapter is pretty short without it lol.
> 
> Also, some chapters are now going to have song recommendations from the UiF playlist! :D like this one!  
> [Song: Body Say - Demi Lovato]
> 
> Remember to leave a comment! It makes my day!  
> Enjoy ;)  
> -Paige

Grillby is frozen in place in front of Petra’s bed. Seeing her there is no surprise, seeing you however…

The room now feels uncomfortably hot, even for him. He can see that you’re obviously naked and trying to hide it, and he’s sure he isn’t supposed to be here right now.

“Why did you call me in here?” he asks, tearing his eyes away from you to look at her.

She has a suspicious smirk on her face as she climbs off the bed and faces him. “Well, I thought it’d be a good idea to have you join us.” 

Grillby is certain his face is bright blue now. He glances over Petra at you, surely you didn't know about this at all, as you're eyeing them with curiosity.

He takes Petra’s arm and guides her back out into the sitting area where he confronts her in hushed tones.

“What the hell are you implying?” he asks.

“Grillby,” Petra coos, running her finger tips up and down his arm, “come on. I know you want them.”

The uncomfortableness that Grillby feels is unmatched, “Not like this!” he hisses.

Petra smirks and steps closer, draping an arm around his neck. “You won’t know until you try. You may end up loving it.”

He’s about to protest when she presses herself against him fully, eliciting a groan from him. He looks back down at her with frustration.

“I think you’ll end up very happy with the outcome,” she says, adding a breathy, “Please?”

This is a strange occurrence for Grillby. At this point, he’s sure he’d already be in that bed if Petra was using her magic… but she isn't, at least he doesn't think she is. She's obviously being manipulative in trying to convince him this way, but would she actually let him go if he refused?

Does he want to refuse?

He thinks to you, his friend, over in Petra's bed. He's never seen you naked, and he's a bit curious. He doesn't want to think of you as new ‘territory’ to explore though. With the long talks the two of you have had and the situations you've both been in, it'd be much deeper than that.

Petra is looking to him for an answer, one of her hands trailing down his back in the process. 

He sighs, “Can I talk to them first?”

Her eyes light up with excitement as she nearly jumps back away from him.

“Of course. I'm just gonna run to the bathroom real quick,” she says, winking at him before walking away.

He rubs at his forehead in aggravation. Is he really about to do this? Is he seriously about to ask you your thoughts on sex?

He gives himself a moment to calm down before walking back over to the bed. You're still sitting back against the headboard, covered by the bed sheets. 

“Hey,” he says quietly, sitting down on the edge of the bed. 

You look rather mortified, your face flushed a deep red. Had you heard what Petra had said?

“H-hey, Grillby.”

“I didn't mean to interrupt. Had I known Petra had already called you in I wouldn't have came down.” he tells you.

“I-it’s okay.” 

A smile lifts the corner of his mouth. If he was in your position, he'd probably be pissed.

“What were you and Petra talking about?” you ask.

Grillby turns toward you despite feeling terribly nervous. “I… She wants…”

This is harder than he initially thought. He takes a breath and just decides to not beat around the bush.

“Petra wants to have a threesome, with both of us.”

He didn't think you could get any more red, but he was wrong. Your eyes are even wider now and, even though this is extremely awkward for the both of you, he can't help but think about just how cute you look.

“I, wh-what?!” you sputter.

“If you are uncomfortable with this, we don't have to!” he pauses, “I don't think.”

You clutch the sheets to your chest even more, “I-I don't know.”

He gives you a smile and nods, “It's okay, I understand.”

He starts to stand back up when you reach out to him. 

“W-wait!” You blurt out, “I didn’t… I didn't say no.”

Grillby sits back down with you, surprised into silence. Did he hear you right? You aren't saying no?

“Um,” you do your best to move closer to him while still keeping yourself covered, “I w-wouldn’t be opposed to it.”

One of your hands is awkwardly placed out on the bed in front of you. Grillby covers it with his, leaning in toward you. Your eyes are wide, and he's not sure if its from the fear of fire or just your nerves.

Then you do something that he doesn't expect in the least. You shut your eyes and close the gap between you and him, pressing your lips against his.

His whole body tenses up. Is this happening? Are you actually kissing him?

It takes a moment for it to sink in before he relaxes into it, kissing you back. He can't help but deepen the kiss, pushing you back toward the headboard. He's rewarded with a soft whine against his mouth that ignites his arousal. 

He pulls back a bit and looks into your eyes. 

“___, are you s-”

“Aw, don't start without me!” Petra’s voice comes from behind him. 

The both of you look over at where she's standing, her robe untied and loosely draped over her naked body.

Grillby swallows hard. This is going to be one hell of a night.

~*~*~*~

Grillby was just about to ask if you're sure about this, and honestly, you don't know the answer to that question. What you do know is that your skin is tingling in anticipation.

Are you seriously about to have sex with a monster made out of the very thing that scares you most?

You gulp, your throat is dry. You focus on the fact that you know Grillby would never hurt you willingly, and you don't think Petra would order him to. 

No, by the way she's looking at the two of you, the only thing on her mind is having a good time. With one simple movement, the robe falls to the floor and Petra is standing there completely naked, beautiful as ever.

“This is going to be a little awkward for the both of you at first, I'm sure,” she purrs, walking right up to the side of the bed, “But trust me, it won't take long for us all to get pretty comfortable here, my dears.”

She crosses her arms and looks between you and Grillby.

“I'm just wondering who I should start kissing first.” Neither of you speak, but her eyes eventually fall on him. “You are way overdressed, darling.”

Grillby’s already blue face glows even brighter as Petra reaches out and tugs at the neck of the tank top he's wearing. He gets the message, pulling it up over his head.

You watch in awe as she climbs up onto his lap and immediately begins kissing him. You aren't sure how you feel about this at first, but the heat between your legs intensifies regardless.

She’s playing with the waistband of his sweatpants, but doesn’t seem to be trying to take them off so much as just teasing him. He wraps his arms around her and leans back on the bed, taking her down with him.

“Grillby,” she breaks the kiss to speak, “we can’t forget about our guest.”

“What would you have me do about that?”

The tone in his voice is one that you haven’t heard from him before. It’s deep, sultry, and honestly suits him so well. You really want to hear it again.

Petra leans down and whispers something in his ear before climbing off of him. He sits up and looks over at you hesitantly before scooting closer to you. Soon he is inches away from your face, bringing his hand beneath your chin to tilt your face up to look at him.

He kisses you gently, his hand moving up into your hair. This is so unlike the last few times you’ve been with a man in this way. Here, you aren’t scared, you actually feel comforted. You let him control the interaction, afraid that you won’t be able to contain yourself if you make any sort of movement. His tongue swipes against your bottom lip and you shudder, your grip on your cover loosening.

His hand moves over the one holding the sheets and he breaks away to look at you, his eyes asking your permission. You take a deep breath and nod. His hand, along with yours, moves down your body, pulling the cover from your chest.

You watch as he takes a moment to admire you, but it’s only seconds before his mouth is back on yours. It’s a much deeper kiss this time, but you still feel as though he’s holding back. One of his hands is fidgeting with what’s left of the bed sheets, the other is trailing down your shoulder toward your chest. 

To your surprise, Petra has now crawled up beside you and is reaching out to touch your skin.  You almost feel bad for forgetting she was in the room, but that thought disappears as her lips touch your neck. The both of them being on you is almost too much.

Grillby’s hand cups one of your breasts and you gasp against his mouth at the heat of it. It’s the exact opposite of uncomfortable, and you end up pressing yourself against him, wanting more. You hear Petra chuckle softly at your eagerness, her hand moving down your stomach to the spot between your legs. As soon as she touches you, your body spasms and you throw your head back against her shoulder.

The stimulation is just too much to bear right now. You aren’t used to this much attention.

Grillby clears his throat. “We should probably slow down a bit, Petra.”

Petra lets out whine and pulls her hand back. You lean back against the headboard, trying to catch your breath. In the meantime, Petra has moved back on to Grillby, and is now working on removing his pants.

You’d always been careful to not assume what a person had in their pants, and for the first time in your life you found yourself more than a little curious. Once his pants are off, you’re glad to see that it’s something you can work with, despite it being made of literal fire.

Your face burns in embarrassment as Petra kisses her way down his chest and stomach, but you don’t turn away. Grillby grips the sheets and groans as she continues to tease him.

His flames seem to be flickering wildly, his face and chest flushed blue. He is the picture of absolute ecstasy right now, and you want so badly to join them.

You crawl over to him, leaning over his face. His eyes widen at the sight of you, but as his mouth opens to speak, you cover it with yours. He lets out a much louder groan than before as you push your tongue against his. One of his arms reaches out, his hand grazing the inside of your thigh. You move even closer to him, making it easier for him to access the apex of your thighs.

He runs a finger over your slit and you whimper. Compared to Petra, his hands are so intensely warm, and just a bit more gentle. You feel him shudder and you aren’t sure if the cause is you or Petra. For a moment, you wonder if the wetness from you actually hurts him, but that thought flies out the window when he slips a finger into you easily.

You pull back from his face to breathe, and the smirk he gives you has you blushing again. It’s short lived though, Petra has now climbed on top of Grillby, fully intent on getting her fill of him. Grillby moans and wrenches his head back, clearly lost in the moment.

But not so lost that he can’t keep touching you. His thumb is now swirling around your clit and you lean in to kiss his neck. His jaw is clenched, and he’s making the softest, strained noises with every move Petra makes. 

You start to kiss his lips again when you hear Petra say your name. You look to see her hand outstretched toward you. You take it and lean over to her, careful not to stray from Grillby, or let his hand slip from you.

Petra shoves her hand into your hair and pulls you to her mouth as she continues to ride Grillby. Her tongue explores your mouth and you’re eager to have yours join in. It’s getting increasingly harder to breathe, and the knot in your stomach is building to uncomfortable heights. It doesn’t help when Grillby inserts a second finger into you and starts pumping them in time to Petra’s movements.

The pleasure you’re feeling is pure physical supremacy, and you’re starting to wonder why you were nervous about this in the first place. You reach out and run your hand up her thigh, smiling a bit at the groan you’re rewarded with when your fingers touch her clit.

Petra’s body soon begins to quake and you’re sure she’s getting close to her limit. You can’t stop yourself from pouting when Grillby’s hand disappears from you. He quickly pulls Petra to him and rolls over to where she’s underneath him. You watch as he pounds into her, her loud moans filling the room.

You press your thighs together in anticipation, the display before you only causes the craving inside you to grow. You’re wanting terribly to be in Petra’s position right now. Grillby on top of you, kissing you, completely taking you…

By the time Petra’s orgasm hits, you’re physically shaking. Grillby is also barely hanging on, but he turns to you, your eyes meeting. Where there was a feeling of awkwardness before, now there’s only hunger. You want him, and he wants you.

He pushes you onto your back carefully and places his hands on either side of you. Eyes still locked with yours, he pauses above you.

“Please,” you gasp.

It’s all the permission he waits for. You gasp when he pushes into you, completely burying himself inside of you. He begins to pump in and out, gripping the bed, trying to focus on not completely obliterating you, though you really wish he would.

He leans in and kisses your neck as you cry out, the pressure in you becoming unbearable. You can tell he’s still going easy, and it’s driving you wild. You reach up and grip his arms, digging your fingers in. You hear him whisper your name breathlessly before he starts thrusting even harder.

In this moment, the only thing you want is for Grillby to take you entirely, for him to give you the release you desire most. You’re sweating, panting,  _ begging _ for this.

“Grillby…”

He crushes his lips to you in a powerful kiss, sending you over the edge. You can’t help the noises coming from your mouth as he pounds into you with reckless abandon, hitting his own release along with you.

~*~*~*~*~

 

Petra passed out as soon as it was all over with. Grillby made sure she was comfortable in bed while you put your clothes back on. Once his were back on, the two of you finally looked at one another.

You hadn’t spoke since you got off, and now you’re not sure what to say. The both of you stand at the door leading to the hallway, still not saying a word. If you needed a reminder of what just happened, the shaking in your thighs would do so. He holds his hand out to you, and you don’t hesitate to take it.

The two of you step out into the dark hallway and start walking. You imagine he’s going to walk you back to your room, or at least to the staircase.

“____.” 

You’re surprised by how hoarse he sounds as he says your name.

“Hmm?”

The flames on his head flicker blue slightly before going back to normal, “Um… that was nice.”

Your face begins to heat up, but you smile. “Yeah, it was.”

The blue is back as he chuckles.

He squeezes your hand a little tighter and walks you up to you and Papyrus’ shared room. He turns to face you outside the door, smiling brightly.

He reaches to your face, running his thumb over your cheekbone before pulling it back.

“Goodnight, ___.”

You smile. “Goodnight, Grillby.”


	26. Smoke and Mirrors

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope yall enjoyed that last chapter! ;)  
> This one is kinda short, so forgive me!
> 
> I'll be taking in character asks on my Tumblr all day (link in end notes) so if you have any questions you'd like to ask any character you've seen so far in the fic, dont be afraid to send them in!
> 
> And please leave a comment below! It brightens my day!
> 
> Enjoy!  
> -Paige

Petra sits on her bed with papers sprawled out in front of her. She sighs and stares at one in particular, the final piece.

She finally cracked the code. She knows what the message says, and who it's from.

It's a message for Papyrus, from his brother. He mentions something about the ruins, and the queen. There’s a lot in the message, but most of it is sentimental, which is making it harder for her to do what needs to be done.

First off, she knows she needs to show this to Charles. He owns the monsters as well and deserves to be caught up on this, no matter what her pride is telling her.

There’s a guilty feeling in her stomach though. If she shows him, it means the monster that it was sent to will be punished. They’ve never laid a hand on Papyrus, he’s never done anything wrong. Petra is certain he doesn’t know about this message, so there would be no point in hurting him.

But that isn’t the way Charles works. He gets off on having power over others, and will use any excuse to terrorize them.

She clutches the paper in her hand, suddenly wanting to rip it to shreds. She could destroy all of this, burn the pieces, and act like it never existed to begin with… but everything within her is screaming that doing that would be  _ wrong _ .

A noise from her bedroom door causes her to jump, and she hastily gathers the papers and rushes to put them into her nightstand.

“Petra, are you in here?”

“I'm back here!” She calls out, closing the drawer and walking toward the middle of the bedroom.

Charles steps into view looking more clean cut than usual. He's got on a white dress shirt and dark blue pressed pants. It also looks like he’s shaved recently and has attempted to style his hair a different way.

“I haven't seen you in a while,” he says, walking over to her. “I've been busy. I meant to come by earlier.”

“That's alright, dear,” she says.

He reaches out and runs his fingertips along the side of her face. She wants to flinch away, but she doesn't.

“I wanted to spend some time with you.” His voice is gentle. “I want to apologize.”

She says nothing, just watches him with a blank stare as he takes her hand and pulls her over to the bed to sit down. 

“I know I've been hurting you lately in so many ways, and I'm sorry. I want to make things right.”

“How?” she asks.

“Well first off, how about I take you to that nice restaurant downtown that you like so much?”

His smile seems genuine, but she is wary. He takes a lock of her hair in his hand and twists it lovingly between his fingers.

“Or we could go to the strip and do some shopping. Hell, we can do both!”

“I don't know,” she says, trying to keep her voice strong and steady.

He gives a small frown, his fingers stilling as he says, “C’mon, Petra, give me a chance here. I want to make things better between us, I'll give you whatever you want!”

Petra can’t count how many times he’s done this sort of thing. He’ll beat her, and then worm his way back into her heart. She doesn’t want him to, she wishes that she could just leave. But this is the man that gave her everything she has today. The one who has stood by her. He has to love her, or else he wouldn’t have put up with her antics for so long. 

People who love each other put up with the other’s flaws… right?

“Dinner sounds nice,” she says quietly.

His hand lets go of her hair and moves to her face and she looks into his eyes. They’re dark and mysterious, perhaps even genuine in his love for her, but those eyes are far from kind.

“That’s my girl,” he says with a smile.

He leans in and presses his lips to hers. Her eyes close and she focuses on it. He’s being gentle with his kiss, pressing just enough to let her know he means it, but not so hard that it feels forced.

Yet, she feels nothing.

But that doesn’t mean anything. They might not be in that honeymoon phase, but that doesn’t mean they don’t still love each other. 

He pulls back to look at her, running his fingers through her hair as he takes his hand back. “I’ll take you out at 7 tonight. That sounds okay?” 

She simply nods. He smiles and stands from the bed, not saying another word as he leaves her bedroom. She sits alone for a few minutes, thinking on what just happened.

She can hear Grillby’s voice as clear as day in the back of her mind.

_ “You need to stop crawling back to him.” _

Running a hand through her hair, she sighs. Grillby doesn’t understand their relationship, he doesn’t know Charles like she does. He isn’t a bad guy, he’s just…

Petra shuts her thoughts down, she has things to get done before her night out with Charles.

She’ll worry about her choices later.

 

* * *

It’s getting much, much colder out, and the weather is calling for a possible snow storm. Upon hearing the news, Papyrus quickly jumps into action, bringing in the more fragile plants from outside, asking for you to help out as well.

You’re helping repot one of the plants when he asks you a question that surprises you.

“___, where do you go when you leave the room some nights?” 

You turn to look at him, but he isn’t even glancing your way, just asking the question as if it’s a part of any normal conversation.

“How many times have you heard me leave?” you ask. “I thought you were asleep!”

“At least four times,” he tells you, “I thought you were just going to get water at first, but it doesn’t take over an hour to get water.”

You can’t help but crack a smile. “I sometimes go down to the kitchen to talk with Grillby.”

Papyrus is smiling wider than usual. “I was wondering if that might be it. It’s really good to see the two of you becoming friends!”

You turn your attention back to the plant as a blush crawls its way up to your face, “Yeah. He’s nice.”

Papyrus makes a sound of agreement. “He’s a great guy! I remember when Sans used to spend all hours of the night at the bar talking to him!”

You remember something about Grillby owning a restaurant underground, that must be what he’s talking about.

“Oh, were your brother and Grillby close?” you ask.

“Very much so!” He says, “Sans loved his cooking so much, it seemed like it was all he’d ever eat! I tried to make him eat healthier, but of course he never listened.”

You smile, that definitely sounds like Papyrus, trying to help his brother make better life choices. He goes on to tell you about how, some nights, he’d have to walk over to the bar to drag Sans home so he could get enough rest to work the next morning. (Though, by the sound of it, he didn’t do much of that even with a full night’s sleep.)

“Anyway, my point was that it’s good to see you and Grillby getting along! Especially with your fear of fire!” Papyrus concludes his lengthy rambling, smiling at you.

You giggle as you do your best to repot one of the larger plants, “Thanks, Papyrus. It hasn’t been easy, but… I’m glad that I’ve befriended him too, and you!”

“Likewise, my friend!” He beams, “And thank you for telling me where you go on those nights, sometimes I worry!”

“Oh, I didn’t mean to worry you!” You tell him.

“Nyeh heh!” He cackles, “It is alright! I’m just glad to know that you are safe downstairs with Grillby now.”

You try to hide the wide smirk on your face as you think of just how safe you really do feel when you’re with him. In fact, it makes you even more excited about the fact that you’ll be meeting with him tonight…

And then it turns to nervousness. How awkward are things gonna be? The two of you haven’t talked since that night with Petra.

“We should probably go ahead and get these plants inside before repotting the others,” Papyrus says, standing and stepping closer to you. “What do you think?”

You look at the plants surrounding you. “Yeah, that’s probably a good idea.”

He helps you up and the two of you begin moving plants. You find that you begin to lose yourself in the work and the conversations with Papyrus as the hours pass. By the time it’s all done, snow is beginning to fall while the sun creeps close to the horizon. 

And you can’t help but wonder if Papyrus will notice you leave the room tonight as well.


	27. Catching Fire

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Isn't it about time we got some more Grillby/reader fluff? ;)
> 
> Please leave a comment! It brightens my day!
> 
> Enjoy!  
> -Paige

The kitchen seems even quieter tonight as you make your way to the back room. You haven’t met with Grillby this late in quite a while, and while you’re happy to spend time with him again, there’s a nervous fluttering in your chest that you just can’t shake.

It’s been bothering you since that night with him and Petra. You’ve passed by Grillby plenty of times during the days afterward and it’s always there when you see him.

You think it’s why you’re so excited to talk to him tonight, maybe it will help the feeling dissipate. All you want right now is to hear his voice, see his smile…

... _ feel his touch. _

You stop walking, your heart beating slightly faster in your chest. You’re so close to the room where Grillby is, you can’t be thinking like that now. The threesome only happened because Petra wanted the both of you. There’s nothing between you and Grillby.

_ Right? _

You swallow your nerves and try to calm yourself before continuing to the room. Hoping that you aren’t noticeably blushing, you push the door open and smile when you see Grillby in his usual spot, your mug on the table.

“Hey there,” You say, walking over to your chair. “You didn’t make yourself a drink?”

He shakes his head. “Not tonight. I’d rather be clear-headed.”

“I can understand that,” you say, sitting down and taking your mug. “How’s your day been?”

“Pretty busy,” he says, “it feels nice to sit down.”

“It really does,” you say, having been mostly on your feet all day as well.

Your eyes flitter across his chest, noticing his scars. A few of them look a little lighter… are they beginning to heal?

“How have you been?” he asks, seemingly unaware, or just ignoring, your staring.

Your gaze focuses on his eyes again. “I've been good! Nothing really exciting has been going on.”

_ Well, except… _

Grillby’s cheeks light up blue at the same time you feel your own warm up. You look down at your mug and decide to take a sip to avoid the awkward staring between the two of you.

“You may want to hold off-”

Too late. The scalding liquid hits your tongue and you immediately spit it back out. You tense your jaw and let out a whine as you set the mug back on the table.

“I'm sorry, I should have warned you beforehand,” Grillby says, “I just brewed it before you showed up.”

“‘ts okay,” you mumble, your tongue curling up in your mouth.

You look at him, he has an amused smile on his face. You're about to speak when he leans over the table and extends his hand.

“Let me see.” 

You hesitate. He means your tongue? What is he going to do, is he going to heal it? That's a little strange.

He chuckles. “Come on, I'm not going to hurt you.”

“I know,” you tell him.

You reluctantly stick your tongue out, feeling extremely awkward. He takes one finger and touches the tip to it. 

It feels as though the heat is being pulled straight out of the burn and you relax under his touch. You close your eyes and a quiet sigh escapes you as your entire mouth seems to be freed of any sort of discomfort it had felt before.

He pulls his hand away and you put your tongue back into your mouth, instantly recognizing the warm, smoky taste in your mouth…  _ just like when he kissed you. _

Your eyes pop open to see Grillby’s face glowing a brighter blue than before. Some of the flames atop his head are a mixture of that very blue and his usual orange coloring. You can’t help but stare at them in wonder.

He reaches his hand out to wrap around your mug. You don’t see anything physical happening, but Grillby looks extremely focused on it. After a moment he takes his hand back and smiles at you.

“Try it now.” 

You carefully take your mug and look at him as you tilt it up to your mouth, pleasantly surprised when the liquid touching your lips ends up being the perfect temperature for you. The taste of this tea is a bit spicier than the last cup he had made you.

“How did you do that?!” you ask, setting the mug back down.

“I can manipulate heat to some degree,” he says.

You pause at his words. “Was… was that a pun?”

Grillby laughs softly. “I suppose it was.”

You smirk as an idea forms in your head.

“That was a pretty  _ cool _ trick, if I do say so myself.”

Grillby slaps his hand over his mouth, laughing harder than before. You beam, absolutely pleased with yourself. His warm voice fills the room and you can’t help but giggle along with it. The vibe between the two of you feels so much lighter and happier than the last couple of times you’ve met. It’s refreshing to say the least.

The flames on his head are dancing again, shifting between different shades of orange and yellow now. 

“Hey,” you start once the laughter dies down, “I just want to ask… how does your hair work?”

He raises a brow. “My hair?”

“Yeah! Well, I guess it isn’t really hair, is it?” You let out a nervous chuckle, “But, the flames, on your head.”

His hand automatically goes to his head, running straight through the flames, barely phasing them at all. 

“What do you mean by how they work?” he asks.

“I-” You hesitate, unsure of how to explain it, “It reminds me of a lot of candles lit together, like on a birthday cake or something.”

He still looks confused. You frown, how can you tell him…

“Would it hurt if I touched it?” you blurt out.

He blinks a few times, unsure how to respond.

“Um, it shouldn’t,” he says. “It’s like my hands, I can control their temperature.”

You slowly stand and cross over to where he’s sitting. He turns on his stool to face you and tilts his head forward slightly so you can better reach him. With the flames directly at eye level, you start to second guess your decision. Grillby looks over the top of his glasses at you.

“Are you sure about doing this?” he asks.

You take a deep breath in and let it out slowly. “I can do it.”

You move your hand toward the flames and you begin to feel the warmth radiating from them. You remind yourself of what he said about controlling temperature, and you let your hand run through the fire.

“Woah,” you say in a breathless whisper. Your hand barely disturbs the flames, and while it’s very warm, it’s not uncomfortable at all.

“You alright there?” Grillby asks, possibly worried by your bout of silence.

“Yeah, it’s… nice,” you tell him. Having worked with the cold soil in the garden most of the day, your hands are finally warming up.

“I’ve been meaning to tell you,” he starts as you continue to run your fingers through the flames, “You’ve come a long way in such a short time, with your fear of fire. It’s good to see.”

“Well, I think it might just be you.” Your face begins to heat up. “I doubt I’d be this calm around a wildfire, but I know you won’t hurt me.”

As the words leave your mouth you feel the flames grow slightly hotter, and you see that many of them have turned that lovely shade of blue. You smile to yourself.

“It’s really very beautiful.”

You pull your hand back as Grillby tilts his head back up to look at you. His eyes are bright, and that blue is dancing all around his face.

“May I touch your hair?” he asks.

You almost laugh, not expecting that question from him. “Of course.”

He reaches out and takes a strand of your hair between his fingers, letting it fall between them. He then pushes a bit further, letting his fingers run through the thick of your hair.

You close your eyes, the warmth of his hand feeling nice as it runs by your scalp. All you can think about is the last time his hand was in your hair, in Petra’s bedroom. You’re sure your blush is covering your entire face, but him playing with your hair is so nice, you don’t care at the moment.

There’s a moment of silence of you focusing in on this before you feel a warmth at your face. You’re confused at first, but the heat touches your lips and all thinking suddenly stops. 

This kiss is a lot different than the ones from before. It isn’t needy and rough, his lips are incredibly gentle on yours this time around. The hand in your hair pulls you closer, deepening the kiss. A soft mewl escapes you, and Grillby groans quietly in response. You don’t stop yourself from running your hands through the fire on his head again. You feel Grillby’s other arm wrap around your waist, pulling you toward him delicately.

You break away for a second to catch your breath, but immediately dive back in. The fluttering in your chest is stronger than it ever was before, but it isn’t bothering you. In fact, it feels just right.

Grillby presses a bit harder before backing off. You don’t want him to stop, but you don’t make any motion to bring him back.

“___,” he says breathlessly, “Do you-”

A noise from the kitchen causes you both to whip your heads toward the door. Neither of you say a word, but Grillby pulls you even closer to him, the arm around your waist holding you firmly.

There’s another sound, and you’re suddenly afraid that it may be Charles. You instinctively wrap one of your arms around him and hold your breath as the two of you wait it out.

“I think it was just someone getting water,” Grillby whispers after a moment.

“I hope so,” you say, looking up at him. You’re pressed against his chest, the heat of his body relaxing you a bit. “I was afraid that it might be…”

You don’t want to say his name, but you feel that Grillby knows who you’re talking about. 

He looks at you with a surprisingly serious expression. “I won’t let him hurt you again.”

You frown. “Grillby… I appreciate that, but how could you stop him?”

“I’ll figure out a way,” he says. “I can’t keep watching him hurt people and just get away with it.”

You lay your head against his shoulder. “I don’t want him to hurt you either.”

There’s a bout of silence where he’s rubbing his hand over your hair, hugging you tightly. You wonder what he’s thinking about, and if he actually has a plan to stop Charles.

“We might just have to figure out a way to avoid him at all costs,” Grillby says after a few minutes. “Especially alone.”

“Sounds good to me.”

You lift your head and pull back just a step, though his arm stays loose on your waist. 

“What were you planning on saying before?” you ask curiously.

“O-oh…” You nearly giggle as a few of his flames tinge blue again. “I was going to say that, um… I hope you didn’t mind me kissing you again.”

You avert your gaze, knowing you’re probably blushing yourself. “I-I didn’t- I don’t mind.”

He releases his hold on you and you take another step back to look at him properly. You can’t help but notice that there are blue flames lying along his chest as well, which you find utterly adorable.

“In that case…”

He leans in to kiss you again, only your lips touching softly. A rush of heat washes over your body and it doesn't disappear when he pulls away.

You open your eyes to see him smiling at you, his golden eyes sparkling brightly, and you long to kiss him again.


	28. It's Gonna Go Down in Flames

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Song: Dear Agony - Breaking Benjamin]
> 
> So... did y'all know I've started another Grillby/reader fic?... and it's set in the same universe as my fic, Spitfire!  
> I'm hella excited to get into it and be able to share it with all of you, but it won't be for a while, because we gotta finish this angst-train of a story! And I just finished writing chapter 38 XD
> 
> Enjoy!!  
> -Paige

Petra sits on Grillby’s bed, legs folded underneath her. It’s much too early in the morning for her to be up, but here she is, getting patched up as usual.

It’s the second time in 2 weeks. This is her own fault, she should’ve been better… she-

“Petra,” Grillby says, “can you lay back for a moment? I want to check the rest of you.”

Petra winces as she lays flat on her back. She’s staring off into space as he lifts her shirt, revealing the beginning of some large bruises on her stomach. 

“Shit, Petra, what the fuck happened?” 

“Same thing that always happens,” she says, sighing to herself in relief at the warmth of his hand on her skin.

Grillby, on the other hand, sighs in frustration. “What did he get pissy about this time?”

Her brows furrow. “I don't even remember, honestly.”

He falls quiet again, focusing on healing her. She knows he's angry now, too, and that just makes her feel worse.

“You need to get away from him.”

She doesn't know how many times Grillby has said those exact words to her. He should know that it isn't that easy.

“Is there anywhere else?” he asks, pulling her shirt back down.

She doesn't answer. He sits down on the edge of the bed, turned towards her. Gently, he lays his hand on her chest, sending healing magic directly to her soul. She feels the rest of her pain fading away. All except the ones in her heart.

“Petra, I'm serious about what I said.” 

Petra turns her head to look at him. “You always are, Grillby. But you don't understand.”

He frowns and says, “Then help me understand. Why are you still with him?” 

“He helped me,” she says, closing her eyes. “He was always there for me when…” Her voice trails off. She really doesn't want to talk about this right now. 

“Look, I know you were in a bad way before. You've told me,” he says in an understanding tone, “but that was then. Things have changed.”

“He still cares. He takes care of me and makes sure I'm happy.”

“Are you happy right now?” he asks quietly.

Once again, she doesn't answer. Grillby situates himself beside her on the bed, leaning back against the headboard.

“You're beginning to sound like one of us, you know? We're all here in this nice home. We have good food, plenty of clothing…” He glances down, meeting her gaze. “But we're still slaves.”

She looks away again. Those words hurt, but Petra knows he doesn't mean for them to. 

“I'm sorry,” she whispers.

He grunts in response, and she can practically hear him saying  _ not sorry enough to not own us _ even though he doesn't say a word.

“I can't just leave,” she says after a moment. “I don't know where I'd go, and I don't want to leave all of you here alone with him.”

“We'd be fine,” Grillby tells her, “He hasn't killed any of us yet.”

“Hasn't stopped him from trying,” she mumbles, “besides, he'd just come after me.”

“You can get protection of some kind. Isn’t that what your police do?” he asks, “There are ways you can get away from him. You need to at least try.”

“Grillby, I-” she lets out a heavy sigh, “I don't  _ want  _ to leave. Be without him, sure, but this is my home. This is my… family.”

Grillby looks at her in amusement. “Family? You mean the bunch of monsters here? The ones whose lives are worth less than a human's?”

She doesn't know what to say to that. Once upon a time she believed that, but now she's not so sure.

“The great Petra is getting soft on us, huh?” he continues to tease, poking at her arm.

“Oh hush, you're the only one I'm really close to,” she says, waving his hand away.

“You care about Papyrus,” he reminds her.

“Who  _ doesn't  _ care about Papyrus? He's an absolute sweetheart!”

“The monsters who tend to the dining room and garden,” he says, “you're always nice to them.”

“I try to be nice to everyone,” she says with a chuckle, “My point is, I would just really rather not leave this place.”

Grillby hums to himself in thought, his hand playing with Petra's hair. “There's no way to get all of our contracts signed over to just you, is there?”

“No, he'd never go for that,” she says in disappointment. That was something she had already thought of, but she knows it’s little more than just a hopeful wish.

He brushes some loose hair from her face. “It's a shame that monsters and humans couldn't just live peacefully, then maybe you wouldn't be in this mess.”

She looks at him, her forehead creasing in confusion. How could he be worried about her when his whole race was enslaved? Grillby has always been so kind and generous. He's always looked out for her, even after what she did to hurt him. He's been there for her more than her own husband.

It isn't fair that someone as sweet as him is a slave while people like Charles are free to do what they want.

“You okay?” he asks after a few minutes of silence.

“What would you do in my situation?” she asks suddenly.

“I can't say for certain. But I'd look at all of my choices and go with what feels like the best one for me.”

Petra sits up, and idea forming in her head. 

“I have to go,” she says, scrambling off the bed.

“Okay?” He watches her curiously. “Are you sure you're alright? Do you need me to walk you to your room or anything.”

She turns to him and smiles. “Nah, I’ll be fine. I just have something I need to take care of.”

“Alright. Well I'll be here if you need me,” he says.

She's already started to the door, but as she puts her hand on the knob, she turns back.

“Hey, Grillby?”

“Hmm?”

She walks back over to him, taking his face in her hands before giving him a hard smooch on the lips.

“Thank you.”

Without another word, she rushes out the door, leaving Grillby confused and flustered.

 

* * *

Papyrus is terribly confused when he gets a message to go to Petra's room so late at night. He isn't used to being called to see her to begin with, but it's even weirder when nearly everyone in the house is getting ready for bed.

He makes his way down the hall, careful to be light on his feet so he doesn't make much noise. He gets to her door and knocks softly.

Petra answers almost immediately. She smiles and motions for him to come in. When he does she closes the door gently.

“Shouldn't you be in pajamas, missus?” Papyrus asks, realizing she's wearing the same clothes she had on that morning.

She chuckles lightly and pats his arm. “Oh Papyrus. Always so perceptive. Come here, I need to show you something.”

He follows her to the sitting area of the large bedroom. On the loveseat he spots a large backpack with two smaller ones next to it.

“Papyrus,” she says, slowly turning to face him, “you've always been very sweet, very good to everyone here… to me.”

“Of course!” Papyrus cuts in, “Is something-”

Petra raises a finger to his mouth, shushing him softly before continuing, “I want to let you know I truly appreciate everything you do here.”

Papyrus smiles, a faint blush dusting his cheekbones. “Well thank you, Missus! I do try my best to make everyone happy!”

“And you always succeed! You're always wonderful about following rules and doing everything we ask of you.” She takes a step closer to him, her face growing serious. “That's why you are the only one I can trust with this.”

His brow bone furrows. “With what?”

Petra turns to the bags sitting on the sofa. “I'm going to be doing something soon… I can't say what it is, but it involves a lot of planning.” She grabs one of the bags and looks at him. “And it involves some help from you.”

He isn't sure what Petra is asking, but it sounds important. 

“I'll do my best, Miss Petra!” he says proudly.

Petra’s smile lights up her face. “Thank you, Papyrus. I also need to ask you to not tell anyone else about it.”

He nods and she holds up the largest bag in front of him. He takes it, seeing her struggling with its weight.

“I need you to hide these in your room,” she says, “Somewhere you can get to them quickly and easily, but not easy to find by...anyone else. If something happens to me, I need you to get Grillby and ____ to safety. These should have everything you need.”

Papyrus frowns. “What would happen to you?”

“I can't say. I'm sorry I'm being so cryptic, but this is so important.” She points to one of the front pockets on the bag. “There's a note in here with more details, but you shouldn't read it now. You need to read it with Grillby… you'll know when.” 

“I don't… what do you mean?”

“Trust me, Papyrus. You will know when you need to use these.”

He thinks on her words. He doesn't understand what might possibly be happening, but he doesn't want to let Petra down. There’s definitely a puzzle here to be solved, and he’s going to figure it out.

“Okay,” he says, “I will watch out for the signs!”

“Excellent,” she says, “there's just one last thing.”

“What's that?” he asks, putting the large bag on his back.

She steps right up to him, lightly touching his collar with one of her hands.

“From this day forward… I command you to talk at whatever volume you wish.” she says, smiling when the collar vibrates beneath her fingertips. “Can you just try to be quiet if you see Charles, please?”

Papyrus stares at her wide-eyed. “I-I don't know what to say.”

“Anything you like!”

He immediately pulls her into a tight hug, lifting her off the ground slightly.

“THANK YOU, MISSUS, I WILL NEVER FORGET THIS!”

She giggles as he puts her down. He's confused as she takes a step back though, as she's wiping her eyes.

“Are you alright?” he asks.

She nods, grabbing the other two bags and handing them to him. “I am, Papyrus. I really am. Thank you.” Her voice grows softer, “I know you'll do great, Good night, Papyrus.”

“Good night, missus!” he says, “I hope you sleep well!”

She chuckles. “Oh I don't know if I'll sleep at all, there are still a few things left for me to do.”


	29. Burning Bridges

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Y'all don't understand how excited I am to post this chapter, and the next. I am thrilllled!
> 
> [Song (specifically for second scene): Had Enough - Breaking Benjamin]
> 
> Please leave a comment, it brightens my day!
> 
> Enjoyyy!  
> -Paige

You stand outside Grillby's bedroom door, hesitant to knock even though he'd told you that you're always welcome to talk to him. Raising your hand up, you give a few soft knocks and wait. It doesn't take long for Grillby to answer, looking rather surprised to see that it's you.

“___? Is something wrong?” His eyes glance over you in confusion.

You smile at his concern. “No, actually. I just wanted to talk to you about something.”

Relief crosses his face as he steps to the side. “Of course. Come in.”

You step into his room and turn to face him as he closes the door. You figure you might as well ask him now instead of attempting small talk.

“Have you noticed Petra acting strange lately?” 

He looks at you in surprise for a moment, the flames on his head flickering quickly, “Actually… yes. She came in here last night asking for a change of my most fireproof clothing,” - He points to a stack of clothing by his bed - “and then she ordered me to set a change there as well. Telling me that I would know when I needed it.”

You look back to him with wide eyes. “That's exactly what she did with me!... minus the fireproof part.”

He smiles. “A lot of my clothing is made with special materials to withstand my body heat for long periods of time.”

“That's cool!” you say, “does your body heat just break them down over time?”

He nods. “I can regulate my temperature to an extent, but I'm still made of fire… anyway, you said Petra had you do the same thing?”

“Yeah. It was rather strange. She said that she couldn't tell me why. I was surprised that she actually commanded me to lay out the clothes.” 

His brow furrows. “It must be pretty important for her to not just ask. Me, I can understand, but you've never shown any resistance to her requests.”

“Yeah… I hope she's alright.” you say, concern now causing you to frown.

“I'm sure she'll be fine,” he says, resting his hand on your shoulder, “she's done stranger things. Sometimes you just have to trust her.”

You try not to frown. “I'll try. I'm just worried.”

“Understandable,” he says, giving you a gentle smile.

You can't get rid of the nagging feeling that something else is going on… something bad, but you don't want to bother Grillby with it more than you already have. He knows Petra better than you anyway, so it's probably best to listen to him on this.

You glance around his room, searching for another conversation topic, and notice what appears to be a yoga mat and a blanket sprawled out on the floor near his bed.

“I hope I didn't interrupt anything by visiting. I know it's a little earlier than we usually meet.” 

He follows your eyes to the mat. “Oh, no it's fine! I was actually just getting things ready for later.”

You smile up at him. “I didn't know you did yoga, but it suits you, really.”

He lets out a deep, warm laugh. “I suppose it does. It seems to help with keeping me clear-headed, along with meditation. Do you practice either?”

You shake your head. “No, but I've heard its good for you.”

He walks over to the mat. “Petra got me into it, though she doesn't do it much anymore. Would you like to try it out?”

“I uh, I don't know,” you say, stepping over to him.

“You don't have to, it can definitely be a little awkward the first few times, but it might help with your worrying over Petra.”

You think on it. Maybe Grillby's right, maybe you should give yoga a try. Besides, this would give you a chance to spend more time with Grillby, which is just fine with you.

“I guess I can give it a shot,” you say, smiling at him.

“Sounds good! Let me grab you your own mat…”

 

* * *

Petra smiles to herself as she hears the door to her bedroom open. She makes sure her silk robe is tied securely, and runs her fingers through her loose curls, letting them fall over the front of her shoulders.

She’s ready this time.

“Good evening, love,” she says, turning to see Charles walking in. “Did you have a good day?”

There’s a flash of confusion across his face, but looking her up and down it’s quickly replaced with passion and hunger.

“I did, actually,” he says, sauntering up to her and running a hand down her arm. “How was yours?”

She lays her hand on his chest, gripping his shirt and pulling him to her. She lets her eyelids droop, captivating him in her gaze, her voice a seductive whisper. “It’s a lot better now that you’re here. I’ve been waiting for this all day.”

He swallows in anticipation and she smirks. He’s putty in her hands, as usual.

“So, what did you have in mind tonight?” he asks huskily.

She takes his hand and pulls him toward the bed, staring into his eyes the whole time. This is probably the most excited she’s been in a while with him.

“There’s something we haven’t done in quite a while,” she says. “Will you lay back on the bed for me?”

"Lay back on the bed? Are we playing a game, Petra?"   
  
Petra runs her hand slowly down Charles's arm, feeling the goosebumps rise on his arm. She smirks. He's playing along   
  
Good.   
  
With a coy smile, she looks up at him through her lashes and nods. "Bed, please?"

“Of course, darling,” he says, pinching her ass playfully before crawling onto the bed and laying flat on his back.

She smiles to herself as she reaches up to the pairs of handcuffs she’s already attached to the headboard. Taking his hands, she locks his wrists into both, clicking them tightly into place… these particular cuffs don’t have a button to unlock, and she’s lost both sets of keys.

But he isn’t going to need them.

“You look even more gorgeous than usual,” he says, “did you do something different with your makeup?”

“I did,” she purrs, kissing his forehead, leaving red lip prints there. “Good of you to notice.”

She moves to his lips then, kissing him with as much passion as she can muster. A long time ago, she’d be so happy to be with him in this bed. But right now, this is her game, and he’s just a pawn ready to be sacrificed.

Straddling him, she pulls back and begins to unbutton his shirt. He’s practically panting beneath her, entranced by her charm. She’s never gone so hard with her powers, but this is going to take all her strength, and it’s going to be so worth it.

Kissing her way down his chest and stomach, she winks at him before she moves away, reaching over to her nightstand.

“What are you doing sweetheart?”

Petra doesn’t answer, but when she sits back on him, she’s holding a cigarette and a lighter. She puts the cigarette to her lips and lights it, taking a long drag before blowing it out into the air.

“I’m just taking my time,” she says, taking another drag and blowing the smoke directly into his face. “Enjoying you laying here under my spell.”

He coughs and looks confused at her before she gazes into his eyes again. He suddenly doesn’t understand what she’s talking about, and she loves it.

“Darling, tell me… do you think even the worst person can change?”

“I, um, I’m not-” He cries out in surprise as she shoves the lit part of the cigarette into the center of his chest, leaning in and brushing her lips against his ear.

“Because I don’t.”

He looks at her as she pulls back and she can see the fear growing in his eyes, but she simply smiles.

“Oh Charles, honey. We’ve had a good life here, right?” She speaks in dulcet tones, running the cigarette ashes over his body. “It’s been so much fun.”

“Why are you talking like that?” he asks, his voice angry, but slightly quivering.

She climbs off of him, slowly making her way to her nightstand. She has a curling wand plugged in next to the bed, ready to go. She’s fucking prepared, and there’s no turning back.

His screams fill the room as she raises the wand and slaps it down onto his chest, holding it there as it burns him. He thrashes against the cuffs, but she’s made sure they’re secure.

“PETRA! WHAT THE FUCK!? STOP!” 

She pulls it off with a jerking motion, grinning at the blistering mark it’s left and the layer of skin that peeled away with it before she lays it against the skin of his stomach and runs it across him, pressing it and dragging it along. He’s making it slightly difficult with his lower body being free, but her powers of persuasion have helped subdue him greatly.

Pulling the wand off again, she reaches out and lovingly caresses his chin, before digging her her fingers into it and forcing him to look at her.

“Oh my darling, you know exactly what’s happening, and you can’t do anything about it.”

She kisses him before running the hot wand against his neck, lingering only for a moment to hear his desperate cries of mercy. The skin blisters faster here.

“But do you know why? That is the real question.”

He’s in so much pain, he can’t answer her. It’s fine, she’s mostly talking to herself anyway. She holds the wand away from him, letting him catch his breath.

“You took me in when I needed someone, made me believe that you were the only one who could take care of me.” She says, “Everything that ever went wrong was my fault, I could never make you happy unless I was fucking you.”

“Petra-”

She reels back and clocks him across the face with the curling wand.

“For once in my life, let me fucking talk.” She growls, leaning over him slightly. “You molded me into your perfect little wife. Teaching me how to do things your way, using your sick tactics to manipulate me in a way that I couldn’t fight against, even with my magic.

“If I had it my way, I’d be shoving this thing up your goddamn ass… But I don’t have time, nor do I have patience for that. And the mess? No. As much as I love seeing you finally under my control completely, all I want is for this all to end.”

“Wh-what are you going to do?!” His eyes are wide in terror as her smile widens.

“Well, I think I’ll spend a few more minutes reveling in your torture. And then…”

She holds the wand at his left cheek, just a few centimeters away.

“The real fun will begin.”


	30. Baptism By Fire

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you do anything at all today, listen to this song. I even put a damn link here, you're welcome! XD  
> [[Meet You at the End - Aviators]](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MQEq5CBgjNs&list=PLupl4d2a9G0P5sdIRKzWQdAf9M4NPWmVn&index=21)
> 
> I've been planning this chapter for a while, and I actually wrote it weeks ago. I was CRYING.
> 
> So... enjoy :)
> 
> And please, PLEASE, leave me your tears in the comments below.
> 
> -Paige

You’re woken up by Papyrus shaking you. 

“___ YOU HAVE TO GET UP! WE NEED TO GO!”

Your sense of smell wakes up before your vision does. The scent of smoke is cloying, and your heart fills with dread.

“Papyrus, what’s happening?!” You make yourself dizzy as you sit up straight in panic.

“THE HOUSE IS ON FIRE. THROW YOUR WARM CLOTHES OVER YOUR PAJAMAS, WE HAVE TO MOVE!”

He’s talking awfully loud, but you don’t have time to question him on it. He helps you pull on your sweater and sweatpants, throwing a backpack you’ve never seen before over your shoulders. Then he takes your arm and practically drags you out of the room.

You remember to cover your mouth and nose as you get to the staircase. Hurrying your way down, you can see the fire.

You freeze.

It’s happening  _ again. _

“___!” Papyrus calls, trying to pull you.

But you won’t budge. It doesn’t stop Papyrus though, as he has already lifted you off the ground and is carrying you downstairs.

You hear a familiar voice call out. “Papyrus?”

“I’VE GOT THEM!” Papyrus calls back.

“Good! Get outside!”

You jolt out of your frozen state. “Grillby?!”

You can just see him through the smoke, recognizing him as the only flame actually moving. You tighten your hold on Papyrus in fear as you see him head toward the back of the house.

“DON’T WORRY, ___, THE FIRE WILL NOT HURT HIM!” Papyrus tells you as he carries you out the front door.

 

* * *

Grillby rushes through the smoke-filled house. 

Petra has to be in her room, he just knows it.  When he reaches her door he rips it open with ease, only to find her sitting peacefully on the floor in the middle of her room as it's going up in flames.

“Petra!” Grillby shouts, running toward her.

The fire is dangerously close. Even he can feel the scalding temperature of the room. Using his magic he forces it a safe distance from her.

She looks up at him, a tired smile crosses her lips. “Grillby. I knew you'd come find me.”

“What are you doing?!” he asks in a panic. The crackling of his voice mixes with the flames engulfing the room. “Come on, the whole place is burning down!”

The smile doesn’t falter. His words don’t phase her in the slightest.

“I know,” she says calmly. “I did it.”

Like a truck, her words slam into his Soul, knocking him to his knees. . He kneels in front of her, looking into her eyes, and only seeing truth reflected back at him.

“Why?” he asks. “Why would you do this?”

She looks down at her hands. “I had to protect everyone. I made sure to send out a warning beforehand… for everyone who mattered.”

His brow furrows in confusion. “What do you mean?”

She points behind her where the bed is… or used to be. The whole room is ablaze. Of the three bodies in the room, only two are breathing. And one, only just..

Her eyes never stray from his. “I had to get away from him. This was the only way.”

He stares back with wide eyes, the fire reflected in his glasses. “You… he…”

A part of him is honestly relieved that Charles can't hurt anyone again. But for Petra to have outright killed him, it’s unfathomable.  Reaching out, he lays his hand on one of hers. “Let's get out of here. You can come with us, and we'll find somewhere safe like we talked about.”

Petra shakes her head, and his Soul drops to the floor. “I appreciate what you're trying to do, but I can't.”

“I don't understand,” he says.

“Can you sit with me a moment?” she asks. “I'll explain.”

Grillby still has a good hold on the fire in the room, but even he has his limits. Still, the undeniable draw Petra holds on him even without the collar tells him to hold on a little longer and listen. Already kneeling, it’s easy to move to sit facing her. She takes a deep breath and looks to him with teary eyes.

“First off, I want to sincerely apologize for all the pain I caused you. Physically and mentally.” She pauses to collect herself, only a slight tremor in her lips giving her away. “I know that can never be forgiven, but just know that I regret doing anything that hurt you.”

He isn't sure what to say to that, so he nods and encourages her to  continue.

“Second, I love you, Grillby. You probably know that already.” Her voice shakes slightly. “I was angry that I loved you. It went against everything I learned and lived by. It was the main reason I got ___.”

“To distract yourself.”

She nods. “Yes. I was hoping another human would help. And while I do love them dearly, it didn't change how I felt for you.”

He squeezes her hand as he watches a tear fall from her eye. There’s a moment he thinks she might start crying, and he can make his move to get them out of there together, but she keeps speaking.

“I knew it would never work out. Nothing between me or you, or me and them, would ever work out.” 

“Petra-”

“There was a letter to Papyrus,” she says, changing the subject in a flash. “He has it. It's from his brother. They're underground. I had to free you so you could get to them, but I couldn't do that with Charles in the way.”

“So your idea was to burn down the mansion?” He can feel his voice rise in pitch where he’s nearly shouting., “That's a bit drastic, don't you think?”

“It's time for all this to go.” She looks at him in such a serious manner, he feels chastised for shouting at her. “It's time for me to go.”

“Petra, you can't be…” Grillby feels himself start to panic again, “no, you can go with us. You don't have to stay here.”

She silences him with a blank look. “Grillby, I  _ want _ to stay here. You and I both know the horrible things I've done can never be fixed. The only way I can atone for them is with this.”

She sounds absolutely insane, and she may be, but there's such determination in her eyes. She truly feels that this is her destiny.

“I know this is difficult for you, even though it shouldn't be,” she runs her other hand over the top of his, “but please try not to be sad. This is where I need to be. You'll need to focus on taking care of ___.”

Grillby doesn't want this to happen, doesn’t believe it  _ is _ happening. Staring into her eyes, he sees that she won't change her mind, and he can't hold off the fire forever.

“You're absolutely sure about this.”

“I am.” He’s never heard two words filled with more sorrow.

The flames around them demand his attention. He was so focused on Petra he missed the way they moved to surround them. She's already clearly uncomfortable. Each breath is a struggle and every inch of skin he can see is glossy with sweat.

“I can knock you out, make it so you don't feel the pain when…” he nearly chokes on his words, is he really suggesting this?  

He doesn't finish the sentence, but she understands.

“No. I need to feel it. I deserve every bit of pain it brings me and more.”

His soul feels as though it's breaking. While it may be true that she deserves punishment, this seems so extreme, so wrong. To know that once he leaves she'll be killed by fire, his own element, it's twisted. He can’t leave it like this.

“I can't change your mind.”

It isn't a question. He knows her answer.

“I'm sorry, Grillby.” She smiles at him once again. It makes him think of times he saw her smile that was framed by the flames of his hands, not the putrid and smoke filled fire of this bedroom. “Please just know that I love you. If you keep any memories of me, please let it be the good ones.”

He can't help but smirk. “You mean all the ones of us in bed together?”

“Precisely.”

She starts to chuckle but it turns into a hacking cough. The few seconds of lightheartedness are gone as the terrible truth of the situation sets in. He places his hand on her face to wipe her tears before leaning in to give her one last kiss. 

With his eyes closed it's like nothing has changed. They're in her bedroom, her lips are so soft on his, and she smells of those lavender soaps she loves to use.

Except she doesn't. All Grillby can smell is smoke, acrid from burning carpet and charred flesh. And, when he opens his eyes, it doesn't look like her bedroom anymore.

“I love you, too.” He says, the words burning a hole in his tongue. He can’t leave it like this..

Fresh tears well up in her eyes and she shakes her head. “You were never supposed to. I'm sorry for that, too.”

The walls around them are crumbling. All of the furniture is destroyed. It seems like the only place untouched by the fire is where the two of them are sitting. The sad smile is still on her lips and he can see in her eyes her intention. This is killing him as surely as the smoke is killing her. 

“Please come with us,” he pleads one more time, as futile as he knows that is.

She's accepted her fate and there's no turning back.

“Grillby. Go.” 

His collar vibrates. No.Not like this.

“Don't come back for me.”

It vibrates again.

His magic is beginning to force him out, but he's still trying to hold the flames back from her.

“Please take care of Pap and ___,” she says as he stands.

It’s agony to stay. It will be agony to leave. 

His voice almost breaks when he tells her, “I will.”

He steps backward, not wanting to tear his gaze from her. 

“Goodbye, Grillby.” 

His voice quivers, “Goodbye… Petra.”

The collar’s power is becoming unbearable and he has to turn and run. There are no loopholes here. He makes it to the hallway and pauses.

He’s still holding onto the fire in the bedroom. Once he lets go, the flames will consume her. He doesn't want to do it, he doesn't want to hear her screams. But his body is forcing him to move, the collar warns him of fiercer consequences, and he has to get out.

Grillby shuts his eyes tight, taking these last few seconds to remember her bright eyes and beautiful smile.

And then he lets go.

 


	31. Up in Smoke

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Song: Victim - Avenged Sevenfold]
> 
> I actually finished writing UiF the other day. It feels weird.
> 
> I'm not... I'm not over here writing a Grillby/Petra flashback oneshot, not me, I don't ship them still haaaa
> 
> Alsoooo, I'm working on a fluffier Grillby/Reader fic, set in the same universe as my Sans/Reader Spitfire! And it's title now is Fireball. I'm so excited to get it out, eventually, I'm still figuring out my plans for the plot :)
> 
> Please comment below <33  
> Enjoy!  
> -Paige

Everything is chaos.

Monsters flee left and right, making their escape. Papyrus has brought you far enough from the house that you’re safe, standing in the snow while he goes back to look for Grillby.

You didn’t want him to go at first, it’s like your younger self was screaming for him not to go, because you know how this ends. You were even tugging on his arm with all of your might. He’d comforted you though, he said he was only going to wait on Grillby, he wasn’t going back inside. 

He promised you.

So you stand there helpless as your home burns once again. You try not to focus on the flames, at least not the ones burning the mansion, though they fill most of your vision. You look for Grillby, though. He’s the only fire you want to see right now. A small logical voice tries to tell you he’s probably fine, this is literally his element, but why didn’t he come out with everyone else? You hope he wasn’t ordered to stay in there.

You hug yourself, shivering despite your heavy sweater over your pajamas. This still isn’t clothing suited for snow, and you wish you had thought about grabbing a coat, but obviously you had other things on your mind.

Something in the mansion collapses, and you can see a bit of the top portion cave in. It echoes in the trees around the house. You really hope that nobody was left inside, but the place is huge, and there are so many monsters.

Suddenly you spot them. It’s hard to miss a fire monster and an extremely tall skeleton walking around. You’re antsy, and you want to run up and hug them, but it’s hard enough being this close to the burning building.

Grillby calls your name and pulls your attention away from the mansion again. It’s hard not to stare.. He rushes through the last few feet of space to get to you, pulling you into a warm hug that feels a lot tighter than usual.

“Are you okay?” he asks in a panic.

“Y-yeah, Papyrus got me out in time.”

He breathes a sigh of relief and pulls back, looking over at Papyrus, who is holding a backpack out to him. He takes it with confusion.

“What’s this?” Grillby asks.

“Petra gave me these,” Papyrus says, speaking in a quieter tone than before. “She said that we would need them, and that there’s a note… hold on.”

Papyrus reaches in the front pocket of big bag and pulls out a couple of papers. “She told me specifically not to read them until I was with you.” 

Grillby takes the paper carefully and looks at them, but hearing Petra’s name reminds you that she isn’t out here with you.

“Wh-where is Petra?” 

Grillby’s flames dim and he and Papyrus exchange a look.

“She-” he takes in a breath, “she didn’t make it out.” 

Your brain short circuits. What?

Grillby stares at the paper, unable to meet your gaze. "We...we'll have time to grieve later. We need to get out of here."

“Where will we go?” Papyrus and you ask at nearly the same time.

Grillby’s eyes move over the note quickly. “Apparently back underground. It looks like someone was reaching out to us from there.”

“Does it say who?” Papyrus asks.

He’s still skimming the words when his eyes widen. “It’s Sans…”

“SANS?!” Papyrus nearly screams. “SANS IS UNDER GROUND?!”

“Looks like it. Says that we should be able to use our magic freely after…”

His voice trails off, and he stares at the paper a minute longer before folding it up and putting it in his bag.

“We need to go,” he says, pulling the bag onto his back.

Your brain is still in a fog when you ask, “How are we going to get there?”

Grillby sighs and looks around. “I think I have an idea, but for now, we just need to get as far away from this place as we can. It won’t be long before cops and firefighters are swarming it.”

Papyrus looks out toward the forest. “It will be harder for them to spot us in the trees!”

Grillby nods, “Good plan. And there are so many monsters fleeing anyway, it’s going to be tough for anyone to keep up.”

You all grab up your gear and start heading into the forest that lies behind the mansion. As you walk away, you look back at the bright, flaming building.

Wherever Petra is now, you hope she’s being treated better than she was here.

 

* * *

 

The three of you walk in silence for what seems like hours. You started off moving quickly, but now you’ve slowed. Partially because of the snow, and also because of being tired. For a bit you could hear sirens in the distance from the mansion, but you guess you’ve gotten far enough away now that it’s completely silent.

Your hands and feet are so cold they’re hurting, and you can feel the skin of your face becoming chapped. You nearly topple over, but Papyrus catches you.

“___?” he says, pulling you upright, “Are you okay? Do you need me to carry you again?”

You want to tell him that you’re okay, but being unable to even get those words out of your mouth make you realize that you’re really not.

“Grillby!” he calls out, “I think we need to stop for a bit!”

You hear snow crunching beneath Grillby’s feet as he walks to you. He reaches out, placing his hand on the side of your face. The sudden heat has you wincing, but you soon turn into his soothing touch.

“Papyrus, I think there’s a tent attached to that bag. Can you check?”

Grillby looks back to you, eyes full of concern as he tries to warm your face up.

“It looks like there are two small ones here.” Papyrus says.

“Good. Do you think you can start pitching them?” 

Papyrus nods and starts on the tents, in the meantime, Grillby has now pulled you to him in an attempt to warm your body. Slowly, you begin to feel more alive, though Grillby is somewhat agitated, muttering something about ‘too many clothes.’

He lets go of you once you’re able to stand on your own and you wait while he helps Papyrus finish putting the tents together. By the looks of it, Papyrus isn’t affected by the snow, and Grillby probably enjoys the cold climate since he’s so hot by nature.

You hear them talking amongst themselves about arrangements for sleeping. Grillby says you and Papyrus taking one tent while he takes the other, something about not wanting you to panic if you wake up and see fire right away.

Papyrus comes over and takes your bag, placing it in the tent with his before coming back to you.

“Grillby is going to stay awake for a bit to keep watch just in case. He said that the two of us should get some sleep for now,” he tells you.

You frown. You really don’t like the idea of Grillby sitting out here by himself after what just happened, but you can’t deny that you’re extremely tired, and you’d be no use to anyone if you pass out.

Following Papyrus back into the tent, you stop by where Grillby is sitting on the ground, reading over the notes again. 

“Grillby…”

He looks up at you, his face set in a solemn expression.

“I’m sorry about what happened.”

His brow furrows. “Sorry? It’s not your fault.”

“I know. “ Your eyes burn with the threat of tears. “But I… I just-”

He pulls you down to where he’s sitting, gathering you in his arms so delicately that you come apart, crying against his shoulder.

“I know, I know,” he says, “as fucked up as it is, I’m going to miss her too. I’m just glad to see you and Papyrus made it out alright.”

You grab ahold of his clothing, tightening your grip on him. You can’t speak right now, but you’re so glad he made it out too. He might be made of fire, but you couldn’t help but be absolutely terrified knowing that he was still in the mansion as it was burning down.

He runs his hand over your head, whispering to you that it’s going to be alright, and that you need to go to sleep. It isn’t long before, with the energy you’ve spent crying,  pass out in his arms.

 

* * *

 

When you wake up, you’re being snuggled by Papyrus, who is completely out. You carefully slip from his grasp, your muscles aching from how long you laid stiff in the cold. Crawling out of the tent, you see Grillby in the same spot you left him, only he’s asleep this time.

“Grillby,” you speak softly as to not startle him.

He cracks his eyes open, but they widen when he sees you.

“___, what are you doing up?” he asks.

You sit beside him on the ground, looking out at the horizon. The sun is only just now starting to rise.

“I don’t know, I just woke up,” you say, leaning against him for warmth.

He gets the idea and puts an arm around you, pulling you closer. You lean into him and just enjoy the warmth of his body and the sunrise together, For all that’s happened in the last twenty hour hours, this feels like a bubble of bliss you aren’t ready to pop yet.

“I thought you were keeping watch,” you smirk, “looks like you were sleeping.”

He chuckles. “I guess time just got away from me. I was more tired than I thought.”

You lay your head against his chest and let out a sigh at the pleasant warmth radiating from him. It almost makes you want to go back to sleep.

“How are you feeling?” he asks.

“I’m alright, considering,” you say, “but I do have a question.”

He pauses for a moment. “It’s about what happened with Petra, isn’t it?”

You nod and he takes a deep breath in, letting it out slowly. “She wanted to stay in there. She said that it was the only way she could atone for her sins.”

You stay silent, taking his words in. There were a few little clues that, looking back, you should have picked up on. She must have been planning this for a while. 

“The only good thing about it all is that she took Charles with her.” 

You look up at him. “Really?”

Grillby adjusts himself next to you so he can look at your face easier. “She apparently set fire to him first. I’m still amazed by it all.”

A wave of relief washes over you at knowing Charles can no longer hurt anyone. You don’t like the idea of celebrating someone’s death, but after all he did to you and to Grillby, and all the others in that house, you can’t help but feel just a little bit happier.

“I kept the fire off of her as long as I could,” he tells you quietly, “but in the end, she ordered me to leave her there and not come back.”

You wrap your arms around him and hug him tight.

“I’m sorry, Grillby.”

“Don’t be,” he says, tilting his face down to kiss the top of your head. “In the end, it was her choice. She did what she thought was best for herself… and for us.”

You look out toward the sunrise, taking in the morning light as it hits the sky. You’re unsure of where you’re headed next, but you know a couple of things are for certain. One is that the three of you will stick together.

The second is that you’ll make sure Petra’s death wasn’t in vain.

 


	32. Ashes to Ashes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Check out this art of me clinging to Grillby I commissioned from Scrap-Patch!!!](https://fitofpaige17.tumblr.com/post/170295875309/scrap-patch-fitofpaige17-commissioned-me-to)
> 
> Please leave a comment below! I appreciate them and do my best to reply to all!!
> 
> Enjoy!  
> -Paige

Petra had apparently stashed a bunch of snacks in the bags, both human and monster foods. You’re thankful for the protein bar and bottle of water you find while the three of you are picking up camp to move.

You finish off the bar while you watch Grillby stand with his back to you about 30 feet away. He had told you and Papyrus the night before that he had an idea of how to figure out a way to the Underground, but this morning he said he wasn’t comfortable with trying it in front of anyone just yet. You respect his choice, but you’re concerned as to what he is actually doing, and if he’s putting himself in danger.

Papyrus slings his backpack on and walks over to you. “He still busy over there?”

“Yeah,” you tell him, “I wonder what he’s doing.”

“I have an idea…” he says, “But we should give him his space.”

You agree. With how quiet Grillby has been since mentioning it, you gather that it’s pretty important or private.

It’s only a few more minutes before Grillby walks back over, rubbing nervously at his chest.

“We actually aren’t far from the entrance to the Ruins,” he says absently,  “We’ll be walking for a while, though. Might camp out another night or two depending on our speed.”

“Oh, that's not too bad!” Papyrus says happily.

You're just a little concerned though. “Do you think the police might be out looking for us? Can they track us by the collars?”

“They probably are looking for us, but the collars aren't too much use to them right now,” Grillby tells you. He hesitates a bit before he says, “Petra hinted about it in the note she left. The collars are tied to the owner's souls, it's how they're able to control their slaves. When the owner passes, the collar’s power becomes weaker, and we just lost both of ours, so…”

“So it'd be a lot harder to track us,” Papyrus says.

“Yeah, and it's easier for us to use our magic.” 

Taking in the implications of that, you say, “We should still hurry.” 

“Oh definitely,” Grillby says. “I'll lead the way since I have a good feel of the direction, and I can clear out any heavy snow paths.”

You and Papyrus agree with him on that being the best course of action for now, and the three of you set off.

 

* * *

 

Sans lays in bed, having already hit the snooze button on his alarm twice. He knows he should be getting up and starting work, but these moments of peace in the early mornings are something he craves.

It’s been weeks since he sent out that message to Papyrus, and he wonders if he eventually got it. There’s a good chance that it just got tossed without anyone ever looking at it. Is there a way to tell? He might need to come up with another-

Sans’ thought process comes to a halt as a strange feeling washes over him. It’s something he hasn’t felt in years, and it’s almost foreign to him at this point. But as he focuses in on his soul, he recognizes it instantly.

_ grillby? _

He sits up, hand grabbing at his shirt. There’s a mixture of resentment and relief flowing through him, and he uses it to force himself out of bed. He’s curious though, if Grillby is alive…

Sans takes in a deep breath and lets it out slowly, reaching out with his soul, expecting to be blocked off again. But there’s a small window there, he can feel it. And something he didn’t expect follows the feeling: Papyrus is there as well. 

He nearly cries out in happiness knowing that his brother is alright. Wasting no time, he leaves his room to go tell Toriel that they need to prepare for new arrivals.

 

* * *

 

The abundance of snow reminds Grillby of Snowdin and a wave of excitement hits him when he thinks about going back there. He knows it will never be the same as it once was, but he longs for his old home, his old restaurant. While they had been imprisoned underground, at least they had freedom down there.

Each step further up the mountain the air grows colder, which Grillby doesn’t actually mind. It feels nice to him, refreshing in a way, and it’s never seemed to bother Papyrus either.

But then he looks back to you. You’ve slowed down a good bit, and Papyrus has had to carry you a few times. You’re determined to push forward, but Grillby is seriously worried about you.

He stops and waits for the two of you to approach him. Your face is mostly concealed by your scarf. The jacket they found for you in the larger bag is zipped up as high as it can possibly go, the hood up to warm you further. But still, it’s easy to see that you’re tiring out, and quickly. They’ve barely stopped at all today, and the snow just seems to be getting thicker the further they go.

“Maybe we should stop again, at least for a little while,” Grillby says, looking over to Papyrus.

Papyrus glances over at you. “I agree. Should I put up the tents?”

Grillby looks to the sky. The sun is close to setting, and they could still go for a couple of hours if they wanted… but he doesn’t want to risk your health for it. They can just get up earlier in the morning.

“Yeah, I’ll help out in a moment.” 

He takes a step toward you, and you look at him through squinted eyes. 

“How are you feeling?” he asks, reaching out to touch your arm.

“C-cold.” Your voice is muffled by the scarf, but he can hear the way your lips tremble.

He frowns, “I know. I’m sorry we didn’t stop sooner. Let me help Papyrus with the tents and I’ll help you warm up… If that’s okay.”

You nod and Grillby squeezes your shoulder before going over to help put up the tents.

While working, the two monsters talk about their next plan of action. Papyrus agrees to take watch for a bit while Grillby get some rest. As much as Grillby is afraid of you waking up to see fire next to you, he knows he’s your only hope in getting warmth back to your body before you freeze to death.

Not that he wouldn’t mind hugging you if that weren’t the case, of course. 

“This is going to sound weird,” Grillby says as he and you sit in the first tent to go up, “but I’m going to need you to take your jacket off.”

You’ve already pulled the hood and scarf down, your face red with the cold. It still perplexes him how human skin grows red with heat and cold. You look to him in question, but go ahead and unzip the jacket, revealing your sweater underneath.

“Do you have a shirt on underneath that?” he asks hesitantly.

“Yeah, do I… do I need to take the sweater off too?” you ask.

“Not if it’s uncomfortable,” he says, “It’d just help you get warmer faster if there are fewer clothes.”

The both of you are blushing now. Grillby doesn’t understand why this feels so awkward when just a few days ago the two of you were in bed together, and doing more than this… and now he’s blushing even more.

He ignores it as he peels his own shirt off. The cold air hitting his flames nearly takes his breath away. He looks back over to you, now in a thin cotton t-shirt, teeth chattering loudly.

“Come here,” he says, scooting a bit closer and reaching his arms out to you.

Your eyes run over him, your face red from more than just the weather now. You crawl over slowly at first, but once his warmth reaches you, you practically throw yourself onto his lap. He wraps his arms around you, holding you tightly to his chest.

As you’re shivering uncontrollably against him, he realizes you’re colder than he initially thought. Why had you not stopped them to rest already? 

Not wanting to change your body temperature too quickly, Grillby uses his magic to warm you gradually. A soft sigh at his neck tells him that he's doing well.

He buries his face into your hair, which still smells like whatever floral shampoo you last used. Closing his eyes, he focuses on the pulse he can feel through your skin, and how similar it is to the thrumming of his own soul.

“Thank you, Grillby,” you say, your voice no longer quivering.

“It's no problem, but next time please stop us before you get too cold. We don't mind taking a break, and we want to make sure you're feeling alright.”

You nuzzle your face against his neck, “I know. I just want us to get to safety as fast as possible.”

“We'll get there, don't worry,” he tells you, the corner of his mouth lifting in a smile, “but I want to get you there alive.”

You don't say anything for a few minutes, but the fingertips of one of your hands are running lightly over one of his arms, causing the flames there to dance slightly.

“When we get underground,” you start, your voice quiet, “where will we- where will I stay?”

“I don't know, I guess it depends on how many monsters are back there,” he says, “I'm going to guess my old home is still there…”

He lets his voice travel off, thinking of your question. You must feel like such an outsider, and you're probably worried that you won't be accepted down there. 

Grillby isn't having that. Assuming his home is how he left it, there's a pretty comfortable couch he could sleep on, letting you take his bed.

“I have extra room, if you wanted to stay with me for a while.” 

“I don't want to be a burden,” you whisper. “If I stay there, I need to repay you or something.”

“Don't be silly. It's not like I have to pay rent or anything.” 

“Still,” you pull back to look at his face, “I need to find a job, make myself useful somehow. Who knows how long we’ll be down there?”

“We'll just have to worry about that when we get there.” He brushes some stray hairs from your face. “Right now, we need to make sure you don't freeze to death.”

His soul hums happily as you give him a soft smile and lean into him once again, wrapping your arms around him. He does the same, reveling in the feeling of having you in his embrace. Grillby finds himself wanting to kiss you, wanting to run his hands all over your body and really find out how your soul responds to his touch.

But this is not the time nor the place for that, and for now he's more than happy to just settle for keeping you safe and comfortable.

 


	33. Drop it like it's Hot

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We are 10 chapters away from the ending! ...unless I decide that an extra one needs to be added in during editing or something. But anyway, wow! This will be my shortest fic to date! XD
> 
> Please leave a comment below, it makes my day!!
> 
> Enjoy!  
> -Paige

It's early morning. You're lying next to Papyrus in one of the tents, and the two of you have just woken up.

 

“Grillby said something about us getting to the ruins today,” Papyrus says in a soft, yet excited tone.It’s hard to tell if he’s quiet because of the early hour or because he forgets he’s allowed to be as loud as he’d like.

You smile. “I hope it’s a lot warmer there.”

Papyrus laughs and looks over at you. “Nyeh! It will be! I’m sure you’ll be very comfortable there!”

You stretch your arms overhead, then immediately curl back in on yourself from the cold. You really hope Papyrus is right about the ruins.

“I bet you’re really excited to see your brother again.”

His smile widens. “I am very excited!! I haven’t been able to see him in years, I do hope he is doing well, and has at least been able to keep himself healthy even though I’m not around to make sure of it!”

You chuckle at his words. Sans is apparently the older sibling, but Papyrus talks as though he’s always having to look out from him. It’s endearing, and a part of you is excited to meet the other skeleton, hoping that he’s just as sweet as Pap is.

Papyrus sits up and you slowly follow, your back sore from sleeping on the hard ground. He starts talking about taking the tents down, and wondering aloud if Grillby is awake. You decide to head out and see for yourself.

You don't have to look far once you leave your tent. Flames catch your eye and you see Grillby a few feet away from the campsite, sitting on a fallen log. He's already got on a long sleeve shirt in preparation for the journey, but he's hunched over, face in his hands.

“Grillby?” you call out quietly, not wanting to startle him as you approach.

He lifts his head, peering back at you. His flames are very dim, burning lower than usual, which you've started to realize is a sign of sadness.

“Is everything okay?” you immediately ask, dusting snow off the log to sit next to him.

He reaches over to his bag, which is propped up next to the log, and pulls an envelope from it, handing it to you.

“She left you a note,” he says, his voice hollow. “Left one for me as well. I already read mine.”

You take the envelope from his hands. Your name is written on the front in a lovely script that you recognize as Petra's handwriting. A lump forms in your throat as you move your fingertips over it before carefully, tearing it open and taking out the letter within.

 

_ My Dearest ____, _

_ When you read this, I'll be gone. I know I'm going to miss giving you a proper goodbye, there simply isn't enough time now. I'm sorry about that, but I want to put my feelings down here. _

_ My love, you are so special. I know I told you that before, but it's so true. You don't see it in yourself, but it's there. I know you are going to do great things, even if you don't think so. Never lose that courage, that bravery you have deep inside your soul. It's so important. _

_ Please don't be upset for me, this is what I chose. This world is better off without me in it, and I'm happy to leave it in hopes of setting you free. _

_ Do look after Papyrus and Grillby. They both care for you so much. _

_ Love, Petra. _

 

It isn't until one of your tears falls onto the page that you realize you're crying. You read the note over to yourself again, and then once more, until it really sinks in.

Petra is gone. You're never going to hear her sweet voice again or feel her soft touch on your skin. As much wrong as you know she did, you still deeply cherish the time you spent with her.

It hurts to know you'll never see her again.

Grillby’s hand reaches out to take one of yours. You let him, feeling instant relief from his warmth. You meet his eyes, he looks just as sad as you feel.

“It's fucked up,” he says, “after all the shit she pulled…”

“You still loved her,” you finish for him.

He pauses for a moment, but eventually nods slowly. You give him a small, knowing smile.

“I only knew her a few months,” you say, “but I feel like it was a lot longer.”

“She had that effect on people.”

You look at your joined hands, the flames of his dancing around your skin. You think about how Grillby was with her for years, and how hard this is probably hitting him. He just lost the only family he really knew on the surface to a house fire, and you know exactly what that feels like.

You squeeze his hand and cover the top of it with your other one. Looking to him, you know you want to say something, you just aren’t sure what. There’s nothing you really can say to make things better, honestly.

He seems to understand somehow as he reaches out with his free arm, placing it around your shoulders to pull you closer to him. You lean against him and close your eyes for a moment.

“Everything is going to be alright,” he whispers, “so long as we stick together.”

 

* * *

 

The traveling hasn’t been too difficult for you today, and you think it might be the fact that you know you’re getting closer to what might become your new home. Whatever it is, it seems to have affected the others as well. Papyrus has been very talkative, sometimes going into what you’ve recognized as his ‘normal’ voice, and even Grillby has been more chatty than usual.

Every now and then on the trail, Grillby would hang back and take your hand in his. You're pretty sure he was using his magic in an attempt to spread some warmth through you, but even just the reassuring squeeze of his hand was enough motivation for you to push forward.

It was only when the three of you reach the large hole in the mountain that you start to doubt yourself. 

Even through the snow, vines are covering the entire area, running in and out of the cavern. You don't dare go near it, and worry for Grillby and Papyrus’ safety as they check it out.

“This is definitely it.” Grillby says, “Right below us is the old ruins.”

“This is where Frisk fell years ago, isn't it?” Papyrus asks.

Grillby nods, gazing down into the abyss. “I don't know how they didn't end up breaking any bones though.”

“H-how are we going to get down there?” you ask, the fear of falling making your voice shake.

Grillby glances to Papyrus. “Aren't you able to manipulate gravity?”

Papyrus smiles proudly. “I AM! Though I mostly use it on myself instead of others… and it's been a long time since I've used it at all.”

He takes a visibly deep breath and steps back before marching forward. 

You nearly scream as you watch Papyrus place his foot over the hole, the other one soon following. Your jaw drops at seeing him standing in midair.

Papyrus looks around himself, “Seems to be working fine! Should I go first and lower the two of you after?”

“Hmm,” Grillby looks down again, “Actually, you could lower me first, that way it'd be a little easier to see as the two of you come down.”

Papyrus turns to you. “I think I can bring you down along with me, if that would make you more comfortable.”

You're still staring in wide eyed shock, and have to swallow before you say, “Th-that sounds good.”

Papyrus looks almost too excited about this as he faces Grillby again. “Are you ready?” 

Grillby nods and you clench your hands together in worry as you watch him take a step toward Papyrus, and then another. Your feet carry you closer to the two as Grillby descends into the darkness, lighting up the area around him.

“Don't worry, ___.” Papyrus says, smiling at you, “He is fine!”

It's not too much longer before you hear Grillby call out that he's landed, only able to see a bit of light from him when you look down.

“Good! I'm bringing down ___ now!”

Papyrus extends his hand to you, and you take it carefully, not wanting to look down as you close the gap between the two of you. He steps closer as to not make your cross such a large distance and you are able to grab ahold of him.

“Hold onto me as tightly as you need to, my friend!” he says, wrapping an arm around you.

You let go of his hand to cling to him with both arms, burying your face against him. Your stomach flip flops as you feel yourself begin to drop slowly.

“This is so wonderful!” Papyrus exclaims, “Being able to use gravity magic how I want again! I never realized just how much I missed it!”

You smile at his words, though you keep your eyes squeezed shut and your arms wound tightly around him. When you finally touch the ground, you feel just a little nauseous. 

Finally opening your eyes, you have to blink a few times for them to adjust. When they do, you’re greeted by a large cavern with dozens of golden flowers around your feet.

“Feeling alright?” Grillby asks, placing a hand on your shoulder.

“Yeah, it's just that… this place is beautiful.”

Grillby chuckles. “Just wait until you see the-”

His words are cut off by a noise on the far side of the room. The three of you fall silent as a voice calls out, sending chills through your body.

“fancy seeing you h-

 

…

 

_ is that a human?!” _


	34. Feel the Burn

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another day, another chapter... another step closer to the end!
> 
> Also, next chapter is smut XD 
> 
> But for now, have a bit of drama!
> 
> Enjoy!  
> -Paige

Grillby turns his head to see Sans standing at the entrance to the ruins. He should be happy, relieved to see him alive. A part of him certainly is. He’d love nothing more than to run over and hug the skeleton.

But his eye sockets are devoid of light, and his smile is tense.

Grillby automatically steps in front of you, acting as a wall between the two of you, facing him.

“what are you thinking, bringing a  _ human _ down here?” 

“They’re our friend, Sans,” Grillby says carefully, his jaw clenching automatically. He’s worried that this could go south real quick, because that’s just how Sans is.

Act first, think later.

“humans aren’t our friends,” Sans growls.

“What about Frisk?” Papyrus speaks up, stepping forward, “Brother, Frisk is our friend, this human is our friend as well.”

Grillby can see the struggle on Sans’ face as he looks between his brother and you. He longs to see his brother, but he can’t ignore the threat in the room.

“They were with us,” Grillby tells him in a calm tone, stepping to the side. “Look, they have a collar, just like we do. They are  _ not  _ the enemy.”

He doesn’t want to back Sans into a corner, but there really isn’t any other way to do this. 

The look in Sans’ eyes hits Grillby like a freight train. It’s hurt, fear, and above all, disappointment in him. He brought a human down, the one thing Sans fears most, here in his safe space, his home.

“Sans…” Grillby’s voice is just above a whisper, “please.”

Sans lets out a breath he’d been holding and glares at Grillby.

“why? why should i allow one of the people who enslaved us to stay down here?”

“They were not one of the humans who did this, Sans,” Papyrus says, his voice pleading.

Sans is giving in, Grillby can see it clear as day. He can’t say no to his brother, not when he’s practically begging. His shoulders slouch in defeat and he sighs.

“whatever, just don’t bring them near me.”

Grillby breathes a sigh of relief and watches as Papyrus runs over to his brother, sweeping him up in a loving embrace. He knows he’s going to have to speak with Sans about this later, but for now, he turns to you.

Your eyes are wide and you’re still looking at Sans in fear. Grillby lays his hand on your shoulder as he had before.

“I’m sorry about that,” he says, “Sans isn’t a bad guy, he’s just… well he has trouble trusting anyone besides us monsters, really.”

You blink a few times and look at him, “I can understand… Humans trapped monsters down here to begin with, right? And then, you get to the surface, and they’re no better. Of course he doesn’t trust any of us.”

Grillby says nothing. He’s surprised by your understanding… but he should expect no less, he’s never seen you jump to any sort of conclusions or pass judgement on anyone.

“if you want to speak to toriel, she’s in her home,” Sans says, “and we should get those collars off all of you as soon as possible.”

Grillby turns and meets Sans’ eyes again. The skeleton’s gaze flickers between you and him once more before he turns his attention back to his younger brother, taking his hand in his.

“come on. we shouldn't waste any time.”

 

* * *

 

You understand Sans apprehension towards you, though it doesn't change how you feel about it. He's feeling threatened by your appearance, but you became absolutely terrified the moment you saw him.

He really isn't anything like Papyrus, based on first impressions anyway. If not for the skeletal resemblance you might not believe they’re related at all.

The four of you traverse the ruins, Sans leading the way. He's talking to Papyrus, catching him up on what's happened since they were separated. It's a sweet moment that you wouldn't want to interrupt, and it seems like Grillby feels the same as he quietly hangs back with you.

The ruins are filled with puzzles that the monsters solve easily. It isn't long before you arrive at a modest-looking home surrounded by fallen leaves from a black-barked tree. You follow the others into the house, where you're instantly greeted by the smell of freshly baked cookies, which causes your stomach to rumble and memories to fill your mind. Ones of days being snowed in when you’d help your mom bake desserts. Usually such a reminder would upset you, but right now you feel comforted.

“tori!” Sans calls out, “we have some company!”

You hear the clattering of dishes and loud, hurried steps. It doesn't take long for a large goat-like monster to appear before you. She makes a noise of delight as she wraps her arms around Papyrus.

“My dear child, I wasn't sure if I'd see you again!” she exclaims, “It's so good to see that you are safe!”

“It's good to see you as well, your highness!!” Papyrus tells her.

Toriel snorts. “Oh Papyrus, I don't know how many times I've told you not to call me that.”

She turns to Grillby, who she hugs a little more softly than she had Papyrus.

“Grillby! It is so wonderful to see you as well!”

“Likewise,” he says, smiling politely at her.

She then turns to look at you, and you stand terrified under her gaze. 

“And who do we have here?” she asks, her smile warm and inviting. It throws you for a loop after meeting Sans, these two monsters seem like exact opposites at the moment.

“I'm ____,” you tell her, your voice a bit shaky, and let out a small squeal of surprise as she pulls you into her embrace.

“Welcome to the Underground, ___,” she says. “I'm very happy that you are here with us!”

She sounds genuine, and you can't help but relax into her hug. When she finally pulls back, she rubs the top of your head lovingly.

“Sans,” she says as she turns to look at him, “can you take these collars off them while I finish up in the kitchen, please?”

“sure thing, tori,” he replies. “if you three will head into the dining room, i’ll grab my tools and be right there.”

Grillby takes your hand as you walk into the next room. It's fairly large, with a fireplace and some bookshelves to your right, and a dining set to the far left. Everything seems to be the right size for the tall goat-monster. Papyrus excitedly heads into what you assume to be the kitchen as you and Grillby take a seat at the table.

“Are you feeling alright?” Grillby asks you quietly, still holding onto your hand.

You hesitate before answering. You honestly aren’t sure what to feel at the moment. You’re nervous here with these two monsters you’ve never met before, both seeming like complete polar opposites of each other. There’s a part of you that is excited as well, though. Here, in a new place away from the terrors of the surface world, the possibilities seem endless.

“I’ll be okay,” you tell him, doing your best to give him a genuine smile.

He runs his thumb gently over the top of your hand in an attempt to comfort you. “It’ll get better. I’m sure Sans will warm up to you.”

You want to tell him you aren’t so sure, but fall silent when Sans enters the room again, carrying a small bag. He sets it on the table and looks around.

“where’s papyrus? i’m gonna take his off first.”

“HERE I AM, BROTHER!” Papyrus bounds into the room as if on cue.

Sans’ facial features soften as his brother walks over and sits in the chair near him. He reaches into the bag and pulls out a couple of different tools you don’t recognize, as well as what appears to be some type of large magnet.

He glides the magnet across the collar and the lights flicker out. You watch carefully as he then takes the tools and begins picking at the locking mechanism. It doesn’t take long before the collar pops open and Sans pulls it away, setting it on the table.

Papyrus’ hands immediately go to his neck and you notice the proud smile now on Sans face. The taller skeleton stands up and crushes his brother in another hug.

“THANK YOU, SANS!” he shouts, “IT’S SO GOOD TO SEE THAT YOU’VE BEEN DOING SOMETHING USEFUL WITH YOUR TIME AND NOT JUST BEING LAZY!”

“heh, well, i had to do my best to get you back, didn’t i?” he says.

Papyrus sets him down and he walks to where Grillby is sitting. Grillby has since let go of your hand and is sitting up straighter in his chair for easier access to his collar. Their eyes meet and there’s definitely some unspoken words there. Sans proceeds to do the same with his collar, pausing as he releases the lock. He stares, confused at the back of Grillby’s neck for a moment before setting the collar with the other one.

“Thank you.” Grillby says, also rubbing at his neck, “It feels like it’s been forever since I didn’t have that thing.”

“it’ll take a few days to get used to the feeling, but it definitely feels so much better,” Sans tells him.

His gaze then falls on you, and you swallow the fear that’s formed a lump in your throat. It’s obvious he doesn’t want to help you, simply by saving you for last, but he takes the tools and brings them over to where you sit anyway.

You tilt your head down as he gets to work. There’s an uncomfortable silence filling the room, but you don’t dare say a word. It doesn’t take long for the weight around your neck to be removed, the collar then tossed over to the others. Like the others, your feel your neck, happy to be rid of the stupid metal contraption even if you were wearing it originally of your own choice.

“Thank you,” you say softly.

He grunts in acknowledgement and grabs up the bag and collars before leaving the room.

“It’s so good to see those awful collars gone now,” Toriel says as she walks into the room carrying a large plate of cookies. “I normally wouldn’t make such treats before an actual meal, but I thought you three might enjoy these.”

Your mouth begins to water at the smell and sight of the cookies as she places them on the table. You nearly jump when her giant hand rests on your shoulder. She smiles down at you, a lot like the way a mother would look to her child.

You’re happy to see that one person here seems to like you… maybe you can befriend the other as well.

 


	35. Under Fire*

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Song: Wildfire -Demi Lovato]
> 
> As always, smut is blocked off by the ~*~*~
> 
> I hope to see you in the comments below! ;)
> 
> Enjoy  
> -Paige

The rest of the day had passed rather quickly. Toriel treated everyone to a wonderful dinner while Grillby and Papyrus told stories about the mansion where they were kept, obviously leaving out most details about the people who kept them. Sans got everyone caught up on the hundred or so monsters he and Toriel had been able to save so far, and where they are all residing in the underground.

You stayed silent unless you were asked a question, and even then, your answers were short. Grillby could tell you were a bit uncomfortable, being the new addition to this already established group of old friends. It didn’t help that Sans kept deliberately ignoring you as if you weren’t even there to begin with.

It wasn’t long after that sleeping arrangements were discussed. There were two free beds available in Toriel’s home, and Sans was clinging so hard to Papyrus, understandably, that Grillby mentioned the two of them taking one.

When he’d mentioned it would be fine for you and him to take the other, Sans gave him a most curious look. Faster than he could catch, several stages of grief pass over the skeleton's face, but once he realized he was broadcasting his emotions Sans's face fell blank once more and he simply walked off.

Grillby is fairly concerned about you waking up in the same bed as him and being afraid… but not as concerned as he is about you sleeping alone. 

That’s the only thing that caused him to share a bed with you: Your safety. Not that he thinks Sans would try anything, he just wants to make sure you feel comfortable. 

But now that the two of you have laid down in the bed, and you’re here facing him, he’s feeling a lot more than just a little overprotective. 

Even without his glasses on, he can admire the way his flames are illuminating your face, shining back at him from your eyes. He’s longing to reach out to you, but he doesn’t want you feeling unsettled or trapped.

“Are you okay, Grillby?” you ask suddenly.

Your voice pulls him from his thoughts. “Yeah… are you?”

“I’m alright,” you tell him, “it looks like something is on your mind, though.”

Grillby isn’t sure what to say to that. You definitely aren’t wrong, but he doesn’t really know how to tell you what he’s feeling at the moment… mostly because he’s unsure of it himself. There’s a sensation in his Soul that he wants to mention, but each time he starts to say something about it, it feels wrong. So he resolves to bring it up later. Maybe.

“How are you holding up after everything that happened?” he asks, forcing a subject change.

“Oh. I’m... well,” your hands are fidgeting nervously under the covers. “I guess I really haven’t had a chance to stop and think on it all. We’d been rushing to get here, and we only talked about it a couple of times.”

“Do you want to talk about it now that there’s some down time?” 

“M-maybe,” you whisper. “There was something I wanted to tell you.”

“I’m listening.” He lays his hand on your arm reassuringly.

“It’s kinda dumb,” you say with a nervous laugh.

His mouth quirks in a smile. “I’m sure it’s not.”

You take a deep breath. “When I was watching the mansion, while it was b-burning, I was really scared knowing you were inside… even though you’re made of fire.”

His soul flip flops in his chest hearing that. The fact that you were still worried, knowing that he wasn’t being harmed by the fire itself, it just shows how much compassion you hold within you.

Your voice is shaky as you continue., “I didn’t know if you were going to come out, and when Papyrus went back, I thought… I thought that-”

You stop speaking to keep yourself from crying. Grillby rubs your arm in an attempt to comfort you.

“I was afraid, too. For you, I mean,” he says. “You were the first person I thought of when I realized the house was on fire. When I saw Papyrus carrying you out, I was so relieved.”

You’re looking at him in amazement, as if you hadn’t expected him to have felt that at all. Why would he not have been worried about you? He knows he’s blushing now, he can see the slight shift of color in your eyes. 

You catch him off guard, pushing the cover off yourself to move into his arms, nuzzling your head under his chin. Grillby lets out a soft gasp in response, taking a moment before actually wrapping his arms around you.

Hugging you tightly, he says, “I wasn’t sure you’d want to be around me after living through another house fire.”

“You’re more than just fire,” you whisper against him.

A rush of white hot heat blazes through him and his soul feels as though it’s spinning around in his chest.

“___, may I kiss you?” he asks before he can stop himself.

You don’t answer with words. Instead you pull back just enough to look at him, giving him a smile before pressing your lips to his.

Grillby pulls you as close to him as he possibly can, completely immersing himself in the feeling of your body against his. You let out the softest moan, digging your fingertips into his back. If he weren’t made of fire, your touch would set him aflame.

There’s so much tension, so much  _ heat _ between the both of you, but he wants more. He wants you to feel more.

He rolls you over onto your back, his tongue now mingling with yours. Oh, there’s nothing he wants more than to make you his, on every level including your Souls. His physical desire quickly takes over, however, his body much more interested in bending to your will right now than discussing something more permanent.

 

~*~*~*~*~*~

The last time you’d done this, you’d been distracted in more ways than one. Now that it’s just the two of you, you’re able to focus on him alone and how he’s making you feel. 

And you’re pretty sure you’ve never felt this amazing in your life.

Grillby breaks the kiss and you whine in protest, a noise you couldn’t stop if you tried. He just smirks and begins kissing his way down your neck, unwrapping  his arms from around you. The movement allows you to lay flat on your back. He props himself up with one arm, using the opposite hand to take one of yours, threading your fingers through his.

“Grillby,” you whisper, your legs starting to rub together slowly for any bit of friction. 

He hums, delighted with your words as he kisses your shoulder.

“We’re going to need to be very quiet,” he tells you, face leaning over your’s once more. “Think you can handle that?”

You bite your lip. He may still be blushing, but his expression is teasing. He knows exactly what he’s doing and that confidence doesn’t help your lustful situation one bit.

“I think so, can you?”

His chest rumbles with deep laughter. “I’m always quiet. Don’t worry about me.”

You keep that in mind as he kisses your lips tenderly, taking your breath away in the process. He pushes himself back to where he's sitting on his knees, taking the hem of your shirt in his hands.

His eyes meet yours. “May I?”

You smile, loving the way he asks your permission. “You can do  _ whatever _ you want.” 

There's a puff of blue flame that shoots from the top of his head, something you’ve never seen from him before. He runs his hands along your sides, pushing your shirt up with the motion. You sit up to help him pull it off. 

A part of you regrets wearing a bra to bed now, but it only takes Grillby a second to unhook it and pull it away from you. He takes a moment to admire you, and while you blush, you don't feel like covering yourself at all.

“You are absolutely stunning, you know?” he tells you. “Everything about you is beautiful.”

You can't say a word, but the heat in your cheeks blooms, followed quickly by a spike in the desire between your thighs..

“Grillby…” Your eyes search his, and you try to put all of your desire into that one word.

He leans in and kisses your cheek delicately, his hand moving to one of your breasts. You let out a soft moan, your head lolling to the side as Grillby moves to your neck. Your hand grabs a handful of his pajama pants as you feel him run his tongue from the base of your neck to your ear. You can't help but shudder as he nips at your ear lobe.

He playfully pinches the nipple that his hand was covering before, rolling it between his thumb and forefinger. You automatically clamp your thighs together in frustration.

“Grillby, please,” your voice reduced to whimpers and shaky breaths, “you're driving me crazy.”

He pushes you back down slowly, his hand now moving to the top of your pants, fingers running right beneath the waistband. Moving away from your top half, he works your pants down your legs, pulling them off completely and tossing them off the bed. For all your begging, he’s keeping his movements at a simmer instead of the inferno you crave. Left with only your panties on, your breath catches when his fingers trail along the top of those too.

His eyes meet yours and, with a smirk on his face, he pulls them down. Your face is burning up from your nervousness, but your hunger is more demanding than your anxiety

He moves back up to your face, seemingly unable to stop kissing you for more than a few minutes at a time. You press your lips to his first, though, catching him off guard.

The brief moment is a perfect opportunity to grab the waistband of his pants in an attempt to pull them down. He chuckles at your fumbling movement and takes over for you, pulling them off and tossing them as well.

With the both of you now completely naked, you feel that you're on common ground. There's nothing to hide, no reason to be embarrassed. It's just you and Grillby here, together, because you  _ want  _ to be. 

You reach out and place the palm of your hand against his chest, admiring the way his flames dance through your fingers. It’s a move you couldn’t have done a month ago, getting so close to something that looks so much like your greatest fear. Slowly, you slide it down, feeling the different textures along his chest and stomach.

Your name falls from his lips in a soft hiss and he leans in once again to kiss the side of your face. The heat from him is starting to make you sweat, and you silently hope it doesn't bother him.

Your hand keeps moving south and you smile at his sharp intake of breath when it wraps around his arousal. You've never touched him here before, and somehow it's much warmer than the rest of his body.

Slowly, you move your hand up and down his length. As different as it looks, you know it works similarly to what you’re familiar with. His body shudders and he groans softly into your neck. You’re enjoying this tiny bit of power over him, though it’s short lived when you feel his hand dip down between your thighs. You have to bite the inside of your mouth to stop yourself from making too much noise as his finger slips between your folds. Those flaming fingers meet no resistance, the teasing and rise in temperature enough to prepare yourself for him. He presses against your clit and you buck up into his hand, your grip on him tightening automatically.

A groan escapes him, one a little louder than expected. He freezes, and you can’t help but narrow your eyes at him, smiling.

“What happened to ‘I’m always quiet’ hm?”

His face and chest are bright blue, but there’s a mischievous spark in his eyes as he looks at you. Pulling your hand away from him, he moves down so he is kneeling between your legs. Sliding his hands up under your thighs, you let out a squeak as he lifts your hips up to him.

You watch in anticipation, squirming slightly when you feel the heat of his breath against you. It doesn’t matter the lights are off in your room. His flames let you see  _ everything _ .

“Let’s see how quiet you can be, then.”

There’s a soft sizzling sound as he runs his tongue along your core and you can’t stop yourself from moaning into your own hand, throwing your head back into the pillow.

Every movement is agonizingly slow, teasing you wherever he’s able. You know he’s paying attention to the noises you’re making, moving on to another area when he thinks you’re getting too excited. You thought you were going crazy before, but that was nothing compared to how you're feeling now. There's desperation welling up inside of you, and you find yourself wanting to cry out, to beg him to take you.

But that's what he wants, isn't it? To show that he is the one with more self-control?

You breathe in deep, gripping the sheets on either side of you as he laps at your clit again. He doesn't know how stubborn you can be, but he's about to find out.

You open your eyes to look and find him staring at you. If you weren't so goddamn horny it might be a bit awkward, but instead it just fuels the lust within you. The only thing you can do to try and one up him now is to slowly bite your lower lip.

He almost immediately releases his grip on your lower half, choosing to move back up to your face, nearly lying on top of you.

“You win, for now,” he says, his voice a low growl, “I need you too badly to care.”

He crushes you in an urgent kiss. You feel him at your entrance and you lift your hips to meet his, begging him for mercy. Holding himself up with one arm, he wraps the other around you, cupping your ass and holding you to him.

He breaks the kiss to look into your eyes. Your heart is pounding in your chest, the only thing you can hear is syncopated rhythms of your breathing.

“Grillby.” Your voice is so soft, you aren't sure if you're actually speaking or just mouthing words at this point. “Please.”

He leans his forehead against yours, both of you closing your eyes as he gently pushes into you. He's so gentle, so comforting, so…  _ warm _ .

Emotion swells inside your chest. You squeeze your eyes shut even tighter as you feel them start to water. God, the last thing you want to do right now is cry. But he's making you feel so amazing right now, physically, emotionally, mentally, that it's almost too much.

He settles your hips back down onto the bed, moving his hand up to your face. 

“___.”

You open your eyes to look at him, your vision slightly blurry.

“Are you alright?” he asks, his hips stilling. “We can stop if you want.”

You almost laugh. He's worried and it's adorable.

“No, please don't stop,” you say, wrapping your arms around his neck. “don't ever stop.”

He kisses you and starts moving in and out of you slowly. You slip your tongue into his mouth, letting it mingle with his like before. The quiet noises he's making are sending new waves of desire to your inner walls, which just adds to the intense wetness already surrounding him.

He quickens his pace, breaking the kiss so the both of you can breathe easier.

“You feel wonderful,” he whispers into your ear breathlessly.

You smile and wrap your legs around him, pulling him deeper into you. A tremor racks his body at the new sensation. 

“Hold on,” he says, wrapping his arm around you back and pulling him to you.

He moves into a seated position. In his lap your legs are still wrapped around him. Having nearly slipped out of you, he's now in the perfect spot for you to slide back down onto him, eliciting relieved moans from each of you.

Holding onto your hips, he helps you move up and down on him. The feeling of his fiery cock filling you repeatedly has you digging your fingernails into his back. Gripping you tighter, he bounces you even harder on him. You do your best to stay quiet, but its getting increasingly difficult as the tension in your lower stomach grows.

Your body begins to shake as you near the edge of your release. It only grows worse when Grillby kisses his way up your chest and neck. You can hear tiny pops in his flames, and the sweat seems to be evaporating off the areas of skin his lips touch.

You let out a whimper, your legs squeezing him. You're so close, yet you still feel like you can't get enough of him. He seems to be feeling the same, as you can feel his body trembling under you.

He whispers your name before pushing his hand up into your hair and pulling your mouth down to meet his.

It’s exactly what you need.Your orgasm rips through you, causing a moan that would surely be too loud if Grillby’s mouth wasn't covering yours. Not that he wasn't making a good bit of noise on his own.

He holds you as tightly as he can as his own release takes him, warming you with his magic from the inside out. 

~*~*~*~*~

 

“Holy shit,” you breathe, laying your head on his shoulder.

“You're telling me,” he says, rubbing his hand along your back.

You're still in his lap, the both of you trying to catch your breath. Grillby’s hold on you is much looser now, a lot less needy, but you don't think he wants you to leave his arms just yet. Not that you want to, either.

Your emotions are still running high, maybe more so than earlier. You don't know if Grillby notices, but he’s sort of rocking you in a calming manner now.

“Think anyone heard us?” you find yourself asking.

“Who knows… I guess we'll see in the morning.” He continues to rub small circles along the skin of your back. “Would you be embarrassed if someone did?”

You smile to yourself. “Embarrassed? Probably. Ashamed? Never.”

A quiet laugh rumbles in his chest. “That's good to hear.”

You pull back to look into his eyes. There's still a tinge of blue on his cheeks and you think it's sort of like an afterglow from the sex.

“Grillby,” you say, touching the side of his face, “thank you.”

The flames atop his head burn even higher for a moment. “I should be thanking you.”

You giggle and shake your head. “I mean for everything. Being there for me at the mansion, taking care of me there and after we left… I can't thank you enough.”

He gives you a small peck on the lips, as if he just can't help himself. “I couldn't just stand by while you were being mistreated then. Now I'm just so fond of you and the company you bring me.”

“I feel the same way.” 

He runs his hand over your hair and down to cup the side of your face. Pausing for a moment, he holds your gaze in his. You think he's about to say something else that's entirely too sweet when a yawn hits you. Instead, he bursts into laughter.

“Looks like someone could use some sleep.”

You untangle yourself from him long enough for the two of you to lay down. As you're facing one another, he pulls you to him, placing a kiss on your forehead.

“Grillby?”

He doesn't look at you, but hums in response.

“I'm really glad we met,” you say after a moment of thought for your words.

He hugs you tighter. “So am I.”


	36. A Heated Argument

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HEY! So, remember me talking about the new Grillby/reader fic I started? Well, I have a question for anyone who will want to read it, and I set up a poll!  
>  [Please take it here!](http://www.strawpoll.me/15011999/r)
> 
> Aaaand please Enjoy this chapter!  
> Don't forget to leave a comment! I truly appreciate it!  
> -Paige

Grillby starts to wake up, feeling something… no,  _ someone _ , in his arms. He’s a little disoriented, but he can hear soft breathing. It’s all so familiar…

“Pe-”

He opens his eyes, freezing when he sees that it’s you. Memories from the night before rush back to him, as well as everything that has happened within the past few days. He’s Underground now, with you.

_ Petra’s gone. _

This isn’t the first time he’s woken up thinking he was holding someone else. The first couple of times he spent the night with Petra, he’d wake up thinking it was Sans, no matter the differences between bone and flesh. And now he’s lost Petra too.

He never realized how much she actually meant to him until she was gone.

He forces those thoughts away. Now is not the time to grieve, nor is it the time to think on past relationships. Right now he should be focusing on what happened last night.

There’s a swell of happiness in his soul just looking at you. You’re sleeping so peacefully, and he hopes that he’s part of the reason why. You’ve been through so much lately, the least he can do is offer you comfort.

You’re both still naked under the covers, and he’s able to peer down and get just a glimpse of your body. You’re absolutely stunning in his eyes and he finds himself craving your touch more often than not now. Holding your hand, kissing your lips, hugging you… He’s getting way too close to you, but he doesn’t want to stop it. 

He hasn't felt this way about someone in quite some time. He's a little afraid that he's moving in way too fast. Then again, what is the  _ normal _ speed for this sort of thing?

The two of you definitely aren't normal. Both of you were used as sex slaves, bent to the will of people who only wanted something physical. Grillby could allow himself to feel like this again, right?

You let out a small whine in your sleep and snuggle up closer to him. It's strange, being able to sleep in like this. The last few days your group used as much daylight as possible traveling to the Underground, and even before then he’d be up already. Usually he'd be up cooking before the rest of the house was awake, but the collar isn't there to force him to do that anymore.

_ He isn't a slave anymore. _

He closes his eyes, letting himself relax once more. Focusing on the feeling of you in his arms, he decides that lying in bed for just a bit longer won't hurt anything.

 

* * *

Sans steps into the dining area where Grillby is sitting eating lunch with you and Papyrus.

He hasn't had a chance to really speak to Grillby since he arrived, and honestly, he's been avoiding it. But he knows it's something that needs to be done.

“grillby, can i talk to you for a sec?”

Everyone at the table looks to him, but he's focused on Grillby, whose bright eyes meet his instantly. The fire monster stands, giving a quick glance to you before crossing the room and stepping into the hallway with Sans.

The two of them walk through the hall to the old bedroom Sans has been sleeping in. Sans leads Grillby in, closing the door behind them both. Now that they're alone, there's this heavy silence between them. Sans isn't sure what to say-

“I'm happy to see that you're alright,” Grillby says.

Of course he would be the one to speak first. Grillby has always been good at breaking Sans’ awkward silences.

He can't help but breathe a quiet sigh of relief. “same to you, bud. i was worried there for a while.”

Grillby is leaning against the desk nonchalantly. “I was worried about you, too. I know we didn't leave things on the best terms.”

That was an understatement at best.

“i know,” Sans says gently, taking a step toward him. “how was it for you up there?”

Grillby's expression turns somber. “It wasn't the best, but it could have been worse.”

Sans frowns, remembering when he took Grillby's collar off. He had seen what appeared to be a scar coming up from his back. The bartender he knew could be private when he wanted to be, but Sans still wants to ask more.

“are you okay?” he asks.

“I'm better now.”

It's clear that Grillby doesn't want to talk about his time on the surface right now, and Sans can respect that. He doesn't really want to talk about his experiences up there either. There's still another elephant in the room though.

“so… who's the human?”

“They were brought into the same home as me and Papyrus.” Grillby tells him, sounding like he expected this question. “They're a friend.”

“sounded like more than just friends last night.”

Sans probably shouldn't have said it so accusingly, but he can't help himself. He almost smirks when a wave of blue flame rushes over Grillby’s face. Still, there's a twist of pain deep within his soul. As good as it felt in the moment to be so petty, he almost takes it back. Almost.

Grillby doesn’t make a move, doesn’t retaliate or anything, he simply says, “Sorry.”

Anger begins to rise within Sans, and Grillby’s calm demeanor isn't helping. He grits his teeth and says, “Sorry? after all this time… all you can say is sorry?!”

Sans clenches his hands into fists, glaring at his old friend, his old  _ flame _ . The pun burns like acid in his mind.

“did you miss me at all? did you?” 

“Of course I did,” Grillby says, frowning slightly.

Sans knows he shouldn't let himself get this upset, but after five years of nothing, he's just feeling too much right now.

“why would you bring a human here?” he demands, “down here, the one place where we can hide from them,  _ why would you bring one here?” _

“Sans,” he speaks softly, “you don't know them.”

He wants Grillby to react, to be angry with him, and each time he stays calm just makes Sans more upset. “i know enough about humans to know that i don't want one in our base! look, i know you have a soft spot for humans and everything, but bringing one down here is just dangerous!”

“I wasn't going to leave them up there,” Grillby says firmly. “They've been through too much already. They were enslaved as well.”

Sans narrows his eye sockets at him, the puzzle falling into place. “you love them, don't you?”

Grillby seems taken aback by his question. “I… care for them, if that's what you mean.”

“i shouldn't be surprised,” Sans grumbles, “of course you'd fall in love with a human, they're much more delicate, more comforting than someone like me.”

“Sans, that's not-”

“tell me, did you attempt to soul bond with them as well?” 

Sans regrets the words as soon as they’re out of his mouth. Grillby’s eyes go wide, a look of mortification plain as day on his face. Neither of them had brought up the bond between them since the day it happened… or didn’t happen, really. Their souls never completely bonded, and it’s left them both with painful memories and injured souls.

“shit, grillby, i didn’t mean-”

“I didn’t,” Grillby answers him. “I haven’t tried to do anything soul-wise with them, not with anyone since I tried with you.”

That just makes Sans feel even worse. Emotions dance around in his head. He isn’t sure what to feel right now.

“how can you be so calm,” Sans asks, his voice quivering. “after five years of being apart, five years of… whatever you went through, how?”

Grillby starts to close the gap between them, reaching out to touch him, but Sans backs away. Stopping immediately, Grillby lowers his arm. Sans can’t take the look on his face.

“i-i’m sorry,” Sans mumbles. “i can’t do this right now.”

Without another word, he turns and runs through the void, popping out the other side into Snowdin forest. His slippered feet hit the snow and he’s suddenly alone in this quiet place.

Sans comes here often to think, or clear his head completely. Right now, he isn’t sure which of those he needs to do. He knows facing this issue head on is likely the best option, but… it’s just so painful.

Five long years of regret, holding onto the flicker of hope that Grillby was okay, then trying to ignore the situation entirely, and for what? So he could feel like absolute shit when faced with it all again? He did this to himself, and he knows it. He should’ve dealt with it long ago, but he didn’t, and now he’s seething with rage and confusion.

He lashes out with his magic, ripping a nearby tree out of the ground. For a moment, back in the house, he’d wanted to hit Grillby. He’d never done that before, and he knows he wouldn’t even now, but stars, had he wanted to.

How  _ dare  _ he come back, with a  _ human,  _ and then have sex with them in the room beside him! What would ever compel him to do such a thing? Did he just not care about his feelings anymore?

Sans lifts the tree and screams his frustration as he throws it over the edge of the cliff. He breathes heavily, staring off after it.

Perhaps it’s that Grillby just stopped loving him. He can’t seem to think of any other reason for it. Grillby clearly doesn’t want to try to make a relationship with him work again, and that’s fine, it’s his life. Sans completely understands why he wouldn’t want to be with him, he just didn’t expect it to hurt as much as it does.

He sits down in the snow, resting his skull in his hands. It was stupid of him to think that what they had would still be there after all this time. He should have never held out hope for it.

The memory of last night creeps through his mind once again. He’d been lying in bed with his brother, who had already passed out, and was trying to get some sleep himself. He could hear the two of you in the next room and knew exactly what was happening. The only thing he could think about was how  _ he _ used to make Grillby moan like that.

He sighs and throws himself onto his back. He can’t go back to the house, not right now anyway. There’s no way he’d be able to face the others yet and he definitely doesn’t want to see Grillby, or you.

_ Especially you. _

The day is still early, and there’s work to be done. Sans can’t shirk his duties on account of his emotions. His job down here is far too important. He has other monsters to help. Hopefully he can at least make someone else happy today.

First, he’s going to go pour himself a strong drink.


	37. Fire at Will

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Man, we're getting closer and closer to the end here. I hope you're all prepared for it!
> 
> Hey, you should leave a comment after you read :D I really appreciate it, they brighten my day!
> 
> Enjoy  
> -Paige

Grillby sits on the bed in the spare room that you shared last night. He’s been staring off into space for hours, thinking about what he should have done differently, how he could have prevented this situation…

And mentally kicking himself for how much of a fucking asshole he is.

He doesn’t regret sleeping with you here, not one bit, but he knows it was wrong to do it with Sans in the next room. He hadn’t thought about how he might be able to hear at all, about how it would affect him. Now that he knows, he feels absolutely horrible about it.

He thinks back on a time when he absolutely would have considered Sans’ feelings in any situation. The two of them were nearly inseparable before. Sans’ witty antics mixed with his own calm and collected attitude made for an exciting relationship between them both, a balance of sorts… and to think that it all started with Grillby cracking a joke about how Sans could pay off his tab  _ without money. _

A small smile crosses his lips at the memory, but it doesn’t last long. Now he only feels more upset about how things have turned out. They had spent so much time together, and planned to do so much once they got to the surface, before everything went to shit.

Once they had realized humans weren’t going to accept them as equals, they had tried to bond their souls to one another in hopes that they could stay connected should they be separated. They loved one another, each of them knew this. But it didn’t work out. 

The bond was created, but it couldn’t sustain itself and broke, hurting their souls in the process. To this day, neither of them know why it happened. Grillby’s guess is it just wasn’t meant to be.

That was merely the first wedge between them, though. Doubting the other one’s love, they both started getting quick to anger at things that used to be endearing, and after a while it seemed like they would disagree on everything. Eventually, the realization that things would never be the same between them, and it seemed almost like a relief when they were ripped apart.

Grillby runs his hand through the flames on his head, which are flickering low, their light only a dim orange hue. He wants to find Sans and apologize, beg his forgiveness, but he knows he has to give him time. As bitter as things are between them now, a part of his soul still knows his. The skeleton doesn’t deal well with confrontation. He never has. He’ll just have to hold out for a bit, wait on him to calm down, and try to talk with him again.

He groans, rubbing at his face. He doesn’t deserve Sans’ forgiveness, he may as well just go live back in his old bar, away from all of them.

A turn of the door knob pulls Grillby from his thoughts and he looks up to see you peeking in.

“Grillby?” Your voice is quiet. “Are you okay?”

He starts to tell you yes, everything is fine… but it isn’t, and you don’t deserve to be lied to.

You push the door open further and step inside before shutting it softly behind you. “Did something happen?”

Grillby sighs and leans back against the wall as you crawl up next to him on the bed. He shouldn’t tell you about it, what would you think of him? Would you be disgusted with his actions? Would you be upset about his past relationship?

“There are some… issues between Sans and I.” 

“I figured as much,” you say. “You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to. I just wanted to come make sure you were alright.”

He looks over at you, a gentle smile on your lips. He doesn’t want to turn you away, but he’d be lying if he said your presence didn’t make him feel a little more sad at the moment. Though that’s really his own fault.

“The two of us have a long history,” he says, “and it’s pretty complicated.”

“I get that. Papyrus told me that the two of you used to be really close.” The look on your face says that you have a good hunch as to what exactly that means. You reach out and take his hand gingerly into yours. “I’m sure this must be difficult for both of you, having been apart for so long.”

Grillby squeezes your hand, “It isn’t just that we’ve been apart, it’s what drove us apart to begin with.”

“I’m willing to listen if you think talking about it will help,” you tell him.

“I wouldn’t want it to burden you.” 

You scoot a bit closer to him, smiling wider. “Grillby, I want to be here for you. It isn’t a burden at all. I promise.”

“I, well,” He looks down at your hand in his, running his thumb gently over your knuckles, “A lot of stuff happened between us, some things that we can’t take back… it doesn’t help that he knows what we did in here last night.”

Your face falls, the tops of your cheeks flushing pink. He does his best not to smirk at that. As endearing as he finds that blush, it’s not the time.

“I didn’t think about that at all,” you say. “I’m sorry.”

Grillby shakes his head. “No, it’s not your fault, you have nothing to apologize for. And before you start questioning yourself… no, I don’t regret it.”

Your eyes seem to sparkle as you meet his gaze again, and he’s pretty sure that was something you needed to hear. He doesn’t want you to blame yourself for any of this.

“I still should have thought on it though,” he continues. “It might have been better to wait until we get to Snowdin. But there’s nothing we can do about it now.”

“Were you able to talk to him about it?” you ask.

“I wanted to,” he lets out a sigh, looking back down at your hand in his, “but he ran off before I had a chance to really say much. I’ll have to sit down with him and talk later.”

“Do you think he’s okay?” 

Grillby furrows his brow, a little surprised by your concern for someone who has been so quick to judge you. “Knowing Sans, he’s probably gone somewhere to just sit alone with his thoughts… or he’s drinking. Maybe both.”

You lean your head over onto his shoulder, “I’m sorry if I came in between you two.”

“___,” he threads his fingers through yours, “this whole thing, it’s been a long time coming. As much as I love Sans, I just don’t think it could work between us now.”

“Why do you think that?” you ask him.

“Well…”

He knows exactly why it wouldn’t work between the two of them now, but he’s not sure if he wants to tell you just yet. How could he possibly give enough to him when all he can think about is you?

“Like I said, it’s complicated.”

You let out a huff of air. “That’s a cheap excuse.”

He chuckles and wraps his free arm around you. “We can talk about this later, I promise. It’s just difficult right now.”

“I understand,” you say, “thank you for trusting me with what you’ve told me.”

“Thank you for listening.”

You nuzzle against him and his soul suddenly feels like it’s racing again. Stars, he loves your touch. It’s different than the touch of another monster, but not unwelcome. There’s a bout of silence where he closes his eyes, reveling in the feel of you against him.

“Do you think he’d talk to me?” you ask.

Grillby pulls back just a bit to look at you in shock. “You want to talk to him?”

You nod. “Yeah… I realize he doesn’t trust humans, and I can understand why. I’d really like to show him that not all of us are so bad.”

Grillby can’t stop the smile tugging at his lips. “I’m sure he knows that, but it certainly wouldn’t hurt for him to hear it again.”

You look up at him with hopeful eyes. “Do you think he’ll listen?”

Grillby shrugs and says, “Sans is stubborn, but he’s smart enough to know when he’s being a bit much. He’ll probably hear you out.”

You sigh and wrap your arm around his, hugging it to you, “I hope so. I don’t want him to hate me.”

“I don’t think he could hate you,” Grillby says. “He doesn’t know you… not like I do.”

He doesn’t miss the blush running across your cheeks.

“Grillby, I just want you to know that I’m here for you whenever. I won’t judge you for your past or anything.”

He relaxes against your side. “I appreciate that… I am here for you as well.”

 

* * *

Toriel stands in the kitchen, preparing the group’s next meal. This is her time to think, not only on food, but on plans for the rescue missions. 

For the moment, though, she’s worried about Sans and Grillby. She knows they used to be close, practically inseparable, and that something happened between them before the humans split them all up. Their relationship is hanging by a thread, she can feel it.

A shift of magic in the room tells her that Sans is back from wherever he disappeared to. After so much time spent together after the barrier was broken, and the years telling jokes through the door, it’s easy for her to recognize. She turns to face him, seeing that he’s leaning against the fridge, glass in his hand.

“so what is it that we have to do today, boss,” he says, sipping his beverage.

Toriel narrows her eyes. “Sans, why are you drinking so early? You know we still have work to do.”

“i’m fine, tori. what’s on the agenda?”

“Well… I got a message last night through the undernet,” she says, trying to ignore the alcohol in his hand.

“yeah? what did it say?” He drains the glass.

“I’m pretty sure it’s from Frisk.”

Sans nearly spits out the drink left in his mouth. “what?!”

Toriel turns fully toward him, leaning back against the counter. “They seemed to have escaped from whoever was holding them captive. You need to see their email.”

“show it to me,” Sans says, walking over and setting his empty glass in the sink.

Toriel pulls out her phone and brings up the Undernet app, opening the message from Frisk. She hands the phone to Sans, who reads it carefully.

“sounds like the kid,” he says, “though… can we be sure?”

Toriel frowns. “I’m pretty sure it’s them, Sans. I can feel it.”

Sans reads over the message again, really focusing in on it, though Toriel can plainly see that something else is bothering him.

“Sans.”

“hm?”

“Did something happen with Grillby?”

His grip tightens on the phone and Toriel reaches to pull it from his hands. “I understand that things are difficult between you both-”

“that’s an understatement,” Sans mutters bitterly.

Toriel frowns at his tone. “You really should talk to him.”

Sans opens his mouth to say something when they hear someone enter the kitchen. Looking over, Tori can see that it’s you.

“Oh, hello ___. Did you need something?” she asks.

“Um, no, I actually…” your voice is timid and you nervously look between the two monsters, “I was w-wondering if I could talk to Sans.”

Tori looks surprised, as does Sans. She looks to him, wondering what his decision will be, especially since he’s already so agitated.

“any reason you wanna talk to me, kid?” 

You fidget with your hands. “I-I just… I had some questions.”

Sans looks to Tori, who shrugs. This is his decision, though she wishes he would talk with you.

Sans sighs and steps toward you. “come on, we can talk outside.”


	38. All Fired Up

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm really excited about this last bunch of chapters! :D
> 
> Please leave a comment below! It means a helluva lot to me! <3
> 
> Enjoy!  
> -Paige

You honestly don’t know where you’re going with this. Confronting the one person who clearly doesn’t want you here? What are you thinking? Everything in your brain is screaming that this is a bad idea.

But something in your soul is demanding it. If you don’t clear the air here, then it will always be cloudy, and you’ll always be hated for no good reason.

“what is it that you want?” he immediately asks as the two of you step out into the dining room.

You turn to face him, feeling frozen under his cold, empty stare. You want to run away, but you don’t back down. 

“W-why do you hate me?” you ask, standing as tall as you can despite your shaking voice.

Sans grins and the chuckle that escapes him is dark. “kid, we don’t have nearly enough time for me to answer that question.”

He starts to try and walk past you, but you side step into his path. His eye sockets go wide as he’s taken aback by your bold move. He crosses his arms, scowling as he takes a step back.

“Give me the short version then,” you say more strongly than you mean to.

A smirk appears on his face and he closes his eyes, shaking his head. “okay, okay, no need to bring height into this.”

You stare at him in annoyed surprise at his joking. He opens his eyes back up, his gaze softer than before. 

“you didn’t already talk to fire boy about it?”

“No, well, we talked,” you tell him, “but it was more about you walking out on him earlier.”

The smile on his face quickly fades and he lets out a heavy breath. “alright kiddo. you wanna talk? lets walk.”

He motions for you to follow as he walks around you. You don’t make a move to stop him this time, choosing to go along with him. The two of you walk outside the front door and down the steps.

“so, what all has grillbz told you about our past?” he asks, walking slowly down the path, hand in his jacket pockets.

“Why do you think he told me about your past?”

He lets out a short, quiet laugh. “if i know anything about grillby, it’s that it’s easy to get him to spill his guts when he’s feeling vulnerable… especially to someone he cares about.”

Your stomach flip-flops at him implying that Grillby cares about you, but you ignore that for now. “He told me that you two used to be very close, and that it’s ‘complicated’ now. But that’s all.”

“mm hmm, that’s all very true.” 

He stops at a tree, one whose leaves have all fallen off. He kicks a few of the piles, scattering the leaves around. You wait patiently as he sighs to himself, clearly wanting to say something, but having trouble putting words together. The silence goes on for a few minutes, and you’re just about to try and break it when he speaks up.

“did he tell you how we tried to bond?”

Your brows knit together as you watch him. “Bond? What do you mean?”

He stops kicking and looks up at the tree as if it’s terribly interesting. “it’s when two monsters meld their souls, taking a piece of each other with them.”

You aren’t sure if he means physically or metaphorically, so you ask, “Is it kinda like human marriage?”

“mmm, a bit deeper than that,” he says, meeting your eyes again. “it could have dire consequences on the health of a monster if it goes wrong, or if it’s broken.”

You frown, taking a step closer to him. “And the two of you bonded?”

“tried to,” he corrects you, “something happened, and it didn’t completely work.”

“Wh-what happened?” you ask hesitantly, recognizing its probably a sensitive topic, but you feel like you need to know. Sans starts walking down the path again and you follow alongside him, waiting patiently for his answer.

“anger happened, distrust, hurt… i happened,” he says quietly, eyes fixed to the ground ahead of him.

“What do you mean?” 

“we had been having lots of problems before then, lots of arguing from both sides. he had hope for the future, i did not. the bond was his idea, but i was the reason it didn’t work.” 

He doesn’t look up to you, just keeps walking. Hearing what he’s saying, it hurts to think about. Trying to do something so special with someone, only for it to not work out.

“Why are you telling me this?” you ask. “You don’t know me. In fact, I’m pretty sure you hate - um, have a strong dislike for me.”

“because if you hear it from grillby, he’s going to tell you it’s his fault.” He stops outside the entrance to the ruins, turning to you, “it is absolutely  _ not _ his fault, and i just want to make sure you know the truth.”

“Why would he think it’s his fault?”

Sans shrugs. “that’s the way he is. he doesn’t like putting the blame on someone else, so he’s probably made up his mind that he messed up.”

“That’s so sad…” you whisper, breaking your gaze from him, “and you said that broken bonds can be bad.”

“yeah, it hasn’t been easy, at least not on my side,” he tells you. “i know that’s how he managed to lead the three of you here, though. so at least it did some sort of good.”

You think on how drained Grillby seemed during the journey from the mansion. Whenever he’d walk off, and now you realize he was using soul to find the way, he’d come back looking rather upset or uncomfortable. 

“I’m sorry,” you say, the words barely making a sound as they escape your lips.

Sans stops once more, looking at you in confusion. “why are  _ you _ sorry?”

You feel your eyes start to burn, but you do your best to fight back any tears that threaten your sight, “All this time you’ve both been in pain. Grillby’s been in pain and I didn’t even know… I know none of it is because of me, but still, I’m so sorry that you both had to go through that.”

“well, whenever frisk gets down here and works their magic, it’ll be like it never even happened.” he says, leaning against one of the pillars at the entrance, “until then, i appreciate the sentiment.”

You aren’t sure what he means by that. Does Frisk fix things like that? You want to ask, but the look on his face says he isn’t finished speaking just yet.

“i know you and grillby love each other - don’t bother arguing because i can see it - and you’ve obviously been through some shit together, just…” He lets out an aggravated sigh, rubbing at the back of his skull before he says, “i don’t really know where i was going with this… i guess what i’m trying to say is that i just want to make sure he stays happy.”

There are definitely tears in your eyes now, and you don’t try to stop one as it escapes to run down your cheek. You can’t imagine how Sans must be feeling right now, and you can’t believe that he is telling you all of this. It’s heartwarming, yet heartwrenching at the same time.

“I’m so sorry for what us humans did to all of you,” you choke out.

He pushes himself off the wall, raising his hands slightly, unsure of what to do as you seemingly break down in front of him. He takes a step toward you, a frown on his face and his eye sockets creased with worry.

“woah, kid, it’s not… it’s not your fault. you didn’t do those things…” he inhales sharply before muttering to himself, “that’s what grillby was trying to tell me.”

You wipe at your tears as you look to him in question. He merely shakes his head.

“i spent a lot of time blaming all humans, not trusting anyone, not even frisk.but clearly grillby sees something different in you, and i’m just now realizing… maybe i was wrong.”

Your eyes widen as he extends a hand to you. A peace offering of sorts? You look between it and his face, uncertain. His smile is soft now, and he doesn’t seem to be slouching as much as he was before.

“look, whatever happened with the two of you, i’m glad that he at least found some sort of comfort out there.” 

You slowly put your hand out and take his. He squeezes and shakes it just barely before pulling back.

“i should probably go talk to him,” he says, looking back to the house.

“It’d probably help him,” you say.

He nods. “i’ll go now. thanks for the talk ki- uh…”

“___,” you remind him.

“___, thank you,” he repeats, “and, i don’t hate you, i just-”

“I understand,” you tell him. “Go, talk to Grillby.”

He gives you a small smile of thanks before heading toward the house. You turn and face the ruins, looking at the leaves laying all over the ground in beautiful shades of yellow and orange. They remind you of the wonderful, calming colors of Grillby’s flames.

Your eyes widen as it hits you; you’re not associating flames with fear, you’re associating them with Grillby, with happiness, and safety. A shiver runs through you and your eyes start to burn with fresh tears as you realize what this could mean for you.

Even with everything that just happened, you find the corners of your mouth lifting into a smile. Maybe Sans is right about one thing. Maybe you and Grillby  _ do  _ love each other.

 

* * *

 

Sans waits until he gets to the front door to teleport straight into bedroom where he’s sure Grillby is.

“hey, gri-”

He freezes as his eyes fall upon Grillby’s form. He’s in the middle of changing shirts and Sans can see multiple scorched marks on his body. Scars.

“grillby, what the hell happened to you,” he breathes, immediately walking toward him.

Grillby pulls the shirt from his arms, not making a move to hide anything from Sans. He is silent as Sans reaches out, running his hand over one of the larger scars on his shoulder and down his arm. 

“i knew i saw something when i was taking off the collar, but i didn’t realize it was this bad.” His voice is strained as he asks, “they’re all over, aren’t they?” 

“Yes,” Grillby says quietly.

There’s a mixture of anger and pain in Sans’ soul, and he knows Grillby can feel it too. How could someone do such a thing? And to Grillby of all people. He’s never hurt anyone… not anyone who didn’t deserve it, at least.

“i’m sorry,” he finds himself saying. “for everything. this, the bullshit we argued about, the… the broken bond.”

Grillby places his hands on the skeleton’s shoulders. “Sans, none of that was your fault.”

“yes it was!” Sans doesn’t stop his emotions coming out now, not in here with Grillby. “i should have been better! i should ha- i should have loved you more or something!”

“Sans, that is a load of bullshit and you know it.” Grillby speaks sternly before wrapping his arms around the skeleton, pulling him against him. “I know you, and I know you did everything you could.”

“then why does it feel like i could have done more?”

Sans buries his face against his flames, unable to stop the few tears that escape his sockets. His soul is crying out much louder though, and he knows Grillby’s is doing the same as he holds him tightly in his arms. Before, this contact would have been too much, too raw. Now he feels as though it’s necessary to quell the rising tide of emotion inside of him.

“I feel that way too,” Grillby whispers, his voice much calmer than Sans’s, but still filled with pain. “There’s nothing either of us could have done, and that’s why it hurts so much.”

Sans puts his arms around Grillby, hugging him back. He’s so frustrated, how could a timeline be so damn horrible? What did any of them do to deserve this?

“I love you, Sans. I always will.” Grillby tilts his head down to rest on his skull. “And I know you love me, but for some reason… this just wasn’t meant to be.”

Sans already knew that, but hearing it out loud, from Grillby’s lips, it makes it so much more real. So much more painful.

As he wraps his arms around Grillby's waist and lets the emotions he has been suppressing for days, weeks, years come pouring out, he knows one thing for sure.

This stars-forsaken timeline has to die.


	39. Hold Your Fire

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did someone call for fluff the day before Valentines day?! :D
> 
> Also, next chapter is the last smut of the story! :0
> 
> Oh, and last chapter there was some talk of resetting in the comments. I would like to see everyone's thoughts on that. The ending is already complete, so it won't change that lol, BUT I still want to know what everyone thinks of the possibility of resetting or not.
> 
> Enjoy!  
> -Paige

The past day and a half had really taken an emotional toll on Grillby. 

First there was the conversation he had with Sans once he'd finally decided to stay and talk with him. Both of them had stayed in that room a long time, getting things off their chests and breaking down in their own ways. He hadn't realized that Sans put so much blame on himself, but it makes sense given his nature.

Grillby still loves Sans, but it doesn't feel the same with him as it does with you. Not anymore.

And now you know about the broken bond. Sans admitted to Grillby that  he told you so he wouldn't react as strongly when you eventually brought it up, which wasn't long after his talk with Sans. He was initially worried about talking with you about it, but you were much more understanding than he could have imagined or hoped for.

This morning the both of you had gotten up and met with the others in the dining room for breakfast, where Toriel told everyone that she had a lead on finding Frisk. Papyrus was absolutely excited to hear that, of course, and Grillby felt a bit of hope arise in his soul. He hasn’t seen Frisk since the humans took them, and he is very interested to know how they’re doing. Tori and Sans said they have some contacts on the surface who will be looking into their lead, but they don’t know for sure when they might be able to get to them.

Now he’s walking with you to Snowdin, and your hand is in his. It’s just the two of you out here in this wintery climate and he can’t help but keep looking over at you to make sure you aren’t getting too cold or uncomfortable.

You must feel his eyes on you, because you look to him, only your eyes visible as your scarf covers your mouth and nose, hood pulled up tightly over your head. He knows you’re smiling as the skin around your eyes crinkles, and he returns it with a smile of his own. His soul is spinning around in his chest like an uncontrollable tornado and he can focus on little else at the moment. He knew he’d be distracted like this from the moment he asked if you wanted to walk with him to his old restaurant. 

“Still good over there?” Grillby decides to ask as the two of you get closer to the town.

“Yeah!” you say, voice slightly muffled. It sounds adorable. “It’s really pretty out here.”

It takes everything in him not to respond with  _ not as pretty as you _ but he holds off on the cheesy remark. Instead he simply squeezes your hand and continues on the path in silence.

The two of you pass by some sentry stations. Grillby tells you about Sans, Papyrus, and all of the canine guards who used to patrol the forest. He thinks fondly on the times the guard would play cards in his bar. You seem interested in what he says, but he notices you stepping closer to him, eventually letting go of his hand to wrap your arm around his.

The flames on his face heat up at the movement. It’s a bit peculiar to him, the fact that the two of you have slept together twice now, yet he still feels this sudden nervousness when you show even the smallest amount of affection toward him.

“Cold?” 

You nuzzle the side of your face against his shoulder and mutter, “Nah.”

He knew the answer to that question before he even asked. Neither of you speak the rest of the way to Snowdin, deciding to quietly enjoy each other’s company. It’s only when he brings you into the actual town that you talk again.

“Do you think anyone is living here now?” you ask.

“I think Toriel said some monsters that they helped rescue have gone back to their old houses. I’m not sure how many there are though.”

It doesn’t take long for you both arrive at the old Grillby’s. He smiles at the sight of the building, still looking just as it did when he left it.

“Is it locked?” you ask, letting go of him to walk up to the door.

“Only one way to find out.” He steps up next to you and turns the knob and it opens without issue.

He pushes the door open and peers inside. The interior looks undisturbed, as if he had just closed the place down for the night. The only difference he notices as he walks inside is that there’s a thick layer of dust everywhere. Had the place really not been touched in the five years he’d been gone?

“Wow, Grillby,” you say softly so your voice doesn’t echo much, “this is a nice little restaurant here.”

He hums in agreement as he approaches the bar. Though typically quick to dismiss a compliment like that, he is very proud of this place. His eyes fall on one of the stools and a particular spot at the bar. It’s Sans’ usual seat, and it’s the only area without a trace of dust. Grillby smiles to himself, unsurprised.

The floorboards creak slightly under your feet as you walk around the bar, looking at the glasses and bottles lining the back shelf. 

“Did you get a lot of business here?” you ask, looking over at him.

Grillby nods. “Being one of the few restaurants in the underground, and the only one in Snowdin, it stayed pretty busy.”

You smile and walk over to the back door. “I’m guessing it’s just the kitchen back here?”

“And my home,.” he says, walking over to you.

You raise a brow. “Your home? You don’t have your own house?”

“Didn’t really care to get one.” He pushes the back door open, letting you go ahead in. “I enjoyed being here. I don’t need a lot of space.”

The feeling of walking into his old home after five long years is bittersweet. He’s happy to see it looking as he left it, but it also pains him that he’s been away for so long. This isn’t his home anymore, not really, not with most of his friends still slaves up top.

“There’s just two small bedrooms and a bathroom,” he says, watching you look around, “and the kitchen, but that’s really all I needed.”

“Wow,” you say again. “This is nice, though I still imagine you made good money, you probably could’ve afforded to add on at least.”

He chuckles and steps closer to where you’re standing in the middle of the kitchen. He lays a gentle hand on your shoulder.

“I liked it just the way it is,” he says with a smile.

You let out a small laugh. “You know, it suits you honestly.”

“You think?”

“Yeah. It’s small, but it feels comfortable. I guess I’ve just been used to seeing you in that mansion.”

The thought of the mansion brings sudden pain to his soul, but he shoves them out of the way. Right now he’s supposed to be showing you things that are special to him, and he really doesn’t want to bring down the good mood you seem to be in.

He takes his hand back as you start walking toward his old bedroom, opening the door quietly. He follows you in, that bittersweet feeling growing even more as he glances around the room, seeing his bed and dresser as he left them. A rarely used desk stands in the corner next to a small end table as his nightstand.

He feels you take his hand again, and he looks to see you smiling widely at him. Before he knows it, you’re grabbing his shirt and pulling him in for a kiss. The flames on his head shoot upward in surprise, but it just takes a moment for him to place his hand on your lower back and pull you closer, kissing you back.

You take a step backward, pulling him with you, then another, and with one more you yank him down until he’s lying on the bed on top of you. He breaks the kiss to find you giggling. His soul swells with happiness at seeing the joy on your face.

“What’s so funny?” he asks, looking at you with utter amusement.

You have one hand pressed softly against his chest, the other reaching up to touch his face. There’s a soft grin on your face that makes his soul squeeze.

“I don’t know. I’m just really happy today, I guess.”

He lets out a laugh of his own, leaning his head down to nuzzle into the crook of your neck. “I’m glad.”

You wrap your arms around his neck. “Remember the other day when you told me you had an extra room for me.”

“Mmm hmm, it’s the other bedroom, though it doesn’t actually have a bed. It does have a couch though. I was planning on taking it and letting you sleep in here.”

You’re giggling again, and the sound just makes his soul flip flop even more.

“I-if it’s okay with you,” you start with a bit of hesitation, but get over it quickly, “I’d like it if we both stayed in here.”

He kisses your neck. “If that’s what you want.”

“Is it what  _ you _ want?”

“Yes,” he says without question, lifting his head to meet your eyes again, “I’d love for you to stay with me, in here, I-”

He pauses, taking in a deep breath before letting it back out slowly, pressing his forehead to yours and closing his eyes. This feeling he has for you is so overwhelming, so intense, his soul feels like it may force itself from his chest if he doesn’t let it out in words. 

“Gri-”

“I love you.”

You both fall silent, and Grillby is suddenly afraid that he’s done something horribly wrong. He doesn’t know you feel the same way. He’s hoped, and doesn’t think he’s read the signs wrong, but he could have just run you off with those words. What if you refuse to stay with him now? What if-

“I love you, too.”

His eyes pop back open and he looks to you intensely. Your eyes are wide and dazzling in the glow from his flames. You lift your head up to kiss his lips again, breathing in deep and letting out a happy sigh as you lay back once more.

“I love you so much,” you repeat. “I didn’t really realize it until just recently, but I do.”

He lets out a cleansing, relieved breath. “I know we haven’t known each other long, but I just… I love you.”

You both lay there, wrapped up in each others’ arms for a long time, only the sound of your breathing and the soft crackling of Grillby’s flames in the room. You’re unsure of how much time passes, but it doesn’t matter. 

Not as long as you’re together.


	40. Spread like Wildfire*

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What is this?! ANOTHER CHAPTER?!
> 
> GUESS WHAT! There's gonna be a chapter EVERY DAY, right up till the end, which will go up on my birthday/the day of Atlantale! <3
> 
> So here, have some lovely smut for Valentine's day!
> 
> [Also, I wrote THIS smut for my lovely friend, so you should read it too!](http://archiveofourown.org/works/13675698)
> 
> Enjoy ;)  
> -Paige

You stand under the hot, running water of the shower, rather amused that Grillby’s home has one in the first place. You guess it isn’t  _ too  _ weird, he must have had visitors stay over before. Still, it’s a little silly thinking of the fire elemental being unable to use his own shower.

Speaking of that, you find yourself wishing that he  _ could  _ join you. It was only the fact that you hadn’t showered in days that you got into the shower, you really didn’t want to leave Grillby at all, not after the both of you had confessed your love for each other.

The butterflies in your stomach are still flying around like crazy since he told you. A part of you is terrified. You’ve never been in love before, not really, but this just feels right. Being with him feels right. You can hear him saying ‘I love you’ over and over, like a lovely song you have stuck in your head that you just don’t want to get rid of. 

Chill bumps run over your skin and there’s a rush of heat in your lower stomach that isn’t caused by the steamy shower. You finish up and turn off the water, unable to handle being away from him any longer. You grab your towel, using it to mostly dry yourself before wrapping it around your body.

You walk out of the bathroom and immediately see Grillby standing in the kitchen, cooking something on the stove. Walking softly, you approach him from behind and carefully wrap your arms around his waist. A few lingering water droplets hiss and steam away from the heat of him. He tenses up for a moment before relaxing back against you.

“Whatcha cookin?” You ask.

“I’m making burgers,” he says. “It shouldn’t take long, it’s all monster food ingredients.”

You breathe in, catching the woodsmoke scent of him as well as the meat he’s cooking on the stovetop. “It smells lovely.”

“Not as lovely as you do.” 

He starts to turn and you release your grip on him, allowing him to face you. He rests his hands on your waist and pulls you close, leaning down to kiss your forehead. It still amazes you how he doesn’t burn up what he touches, the towel around you not affected by his hands at all. He takes a deep breath and smiles.

“I was right. You smell amazing.”

Your cheeks heat up as you lean in to kiss his lips. He kisses back softly, though his grip on your waist tightens. You can’t help but press your hips forward to grind against him, smiling when he lets a groan out against your mouth. One of his hands makes its way up, moving into your wet hair, causing a loud hissing noise. You almost pull away in surprise, but he uses that same hand to pull you deeper into the kiss. The water must not be enough to bother him, or he’s too preoccupied to care.

You nearly whine when he pulls away, but it doesn’t take long for him to move the food from the stove and get his hands back on you. Somehow your towel stays tied around you as he picks you up to place you on the nearby counter. His lips find yours again, but the kiss he gives you is harder this time, hungrier.

 

~*~*~*~*~*~

He spreads your legs to stand between them, pushing the towel up your thighs, and wraps his arms around your body. He pulls you to him and you can feel his hardened length pressing against your core through his pants.

One of his hands moves to the top of the towel, hooking his fingers over it, but he goes no further. Understanding that he's waiting on your consent, you cover his hand with yours and together you loosen the towel and drag it down your body.

As his tongue meets with yours, you move your hands up under his shirt, loving the feeling of his warm flames caressing your fingers. One arm still wrapped around you, his other hand is moving gently over your breasts, leaving a trail of heat wherever he touches. You wrap your legs around him in an attempt to press him against you even more, your hands pushing his shirt up further.

He gets the idea, breaking the kiss to pull the shirt over his head and toss it to the side. You can’t keep your eyes off him. When you first saw him shirtless, you’d been slightly afraid of the fire, and rather worried when you noticed his scars. Now when you look at him, you only see someone who truly cares about you, and that fear you used to have from the fire is replaced with awe and passion.

You look back to his face and see he’s blushing, probably from you staring at him. You smile and wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him to where your foreheads are touching. Both of you are breathing heavily, and there’s this wave of energy between you that you feel is bound to break soon.

“I love you,” you breathe out.

“I love you, too,” he echoes back, moving his hands to grip your thighs.

The tension is building, your body is beginning to shake. He’s taking things slow and it’s killing you. He slowly moves one of his hands to the center of your chest, pressing his palm flat against your sternum. Something inside of you reacts and you gasp at the lovely, fluttering sensation. A smile crosses Grillby’s face and he pushes until your back hits the cabinets behind you.

He leans in to kiss your neck and you moan his name. The hand on your thigh grips harder, his fingers digging into your skin. You aren’t sure what kind of magic you assume he’s using with the hand on your chest, right above where you’ve learned your soul resides, but you don’t want him to stop. 

You reach down and undo his pants, shoving them down until his cock is freed. His fire-hot kisses are leading down to your shoulder when you run your hand over his length, he shudders and stops his mouth at the base of your neck. 

You hear him whisper your name against your skin and it sends a strong shiver through you. Your thighs automatically try to close, but he's clearly in the way, and not having any of it as he uses both of his hands to spread them back apart for you. The air hits your core and you bite your lip, whining rather loudly.

“ _ Grillbyyy _ !”

He chuckles and leans closer, rubbing his dick against you. If he wanted, he could slip into you easily, but he seems to be enjoying this teasing game.

Your hands move to his shoulders, gripping them tightly as you meet his gaze. His face is adorably blue, but he has this mischievous look in his eyes that makes you that much wetter.

“Please,” you beg.

“Please what?” he asks, smirking as his hands move up your thighs slowly.

His stare has you feeling nervous, but you want this more than anything right now.

“I need you,” you say, trying not to stutter over your words. “I need you inside me. Please, Grillby.”

He hums and moves his hands to your hips while positioning himself right outside your entrance. You breathe deeply in anticipation.

“Ready for me, my love?” he asks, his voice deep and sultry as he leans his forehead to yours once more.

“Yesss.”

He grips your hips tightly and pulls you forward slightly as he pushes into you. You let out a long, soft groan as he takes his time sinking into you completely. He's breathing heavily, his fingers digging into your skin. You can see he's holding on to what little control he has, though you really wish he wouldn't.

His breath hitches as he pulls out almost completely before immersing himself again, and again.

His controlled movements are definitely building up the heat in your abdomen, but it isn't enough. You need more.

You try to grab at him below his arms, near his waist, anywhere that you can grasp so that you can pull him back into you like you want. He tries to help, moving one hand to the middle of your back to pull you to him.

He has to clear his throat before asking, “Something wrong?”

“Need you,” you breathe, fully wrapping your arms around him. “More.”

With both arms around you now, he grunts as he lifts you from the counter. For a moment, you think he's taking you to the bedroom, until you're suddenly pushed back against the fridge.

The cold surface of the fridge on your back has you gasping for air, but the heat of your lover demands attention at your front. Your grip on him loosens and he pulls back slightly, hands sliding down to your thighs to hold your legs up for you. 

“Shiiit,” you hiss as he situates himself into a more comfortable angle, still throbbing inside of you.

“Are you alright?” 

“Y-yeah, I’m good,” you say with shaky breath, “just… keep moving.”

He does as you say, keeping you held up against the cool fridge with every thrust he makes. A brief thought passes through your head that maybe this isn’t the best place to be doing this, but Grillby’s lips crush yours again, consuming any other thought but him.

You’re practically pouring sweat now, but it seems to evaporate everywhere he touches you. Even though his hand isn’t on your chest any longer, you still have this floaty feeling inside of you that seems to be reacting to Grillby just as much as your physical body. You let out a moan as he moves to wrap your legs back around him and lets his hands roam your body again, causing you to break the kiss to breathe when he starts rubbing at your clit.

He speeds up his pace and the force behind it, pinning you completely back against the fridge now. If you weren’t drowning in absolute bliss, you’d probably be worried about the fridge itself rocking back against the wall. It isn’t long before his hands move away to grab hold of the top of the fridge, yours wrapping around his forearms as he starts pounding into you with abandon.

The sounds of your lovemaking fill the room, neither of you holding back this time. You rest your head back against the fridge as the tension in your body snaps, allowing your orgasm to ripple through you. You know that hearing you scream his name is what sends him over as well, his movements becoming sporadic as he buries his face into your neck, expletives pouring from his mouth.

~*~*~*~

 

And then… stillness. Both of you stand still as you come down from your high. Grillby brings one arm down to wrap around you, as you start to become to weak to keep your legs wrapped around him. There’s nothing but the sound of breathing now, and even that seems to send a wave of euphoria through you.

“I love you,” you hear him whisper first, pressing the lightest kiss to your cheek.

You smile and answer, “I love you, too.”

He lifts his upper body to stand straight, slowly releasing his grip on the fridge and bringing the other arm around you as well.

“I might need to take another shower,” you say with a giggle.

“And I’ll probably have to reheat th-”

The both of you scream as Grillby’s legs give out from underneath him, sending you both crashing to the floor. 

“Are you okay?!” you ask in a panic, having landed on top of him. 

The fear subsides as he starts laughing, and soon you’re joining him. He moves his hands to either side of your face, pulling you down to his and kissing you gently.

“I’m perfect… are you alright?” he asks breathlessly.

“Yes,” you say, running your hands through the flames atop his head.

“Everything is just fine.”

 

* * *

 

_ It’s cold. So cold. Lungs heaving, legs fighting against the pain, they run.  _

_ There’s a wound in their arm and they can taste blood as well. It took forever to get away from there, and even then it wasn’t without notice. Another alarm sounds behind them. They have to hurry.  _

_ They can’t be caught this time. _

_ A large tree root trips them, and they fall face-first into the dirt. Determination lifts them up and they fight the way their body protests, trying to make them rest. They have to get to safety. They  have  to. _

_ If they stop now, they don’t know if they can keep going. Blood red determination fills their Soul as they keep sprinting up the mountain. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please leave me a comment below! It brightens my day! <3


	41. Some People just wanna Watch the World Burn

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Song: Tonight the World Dies - Avenged Sevenfold]
> 
> Omg we're so close to the end! This chapter is longer, and honestly it was one of my favorites to write.
> 
> Please leave a comment with your thoughts below! I really appreciate it!! <3
> 
> Enjoy!  
> -Paige

Frisk had fallen down into the ruins overnight, to Sans’s relief and surprise. They were injured, from the impact or before he couldn’t tell, but Toriel patched them up as best she could. They kept saying something about needing a locket, to which Tori replied that she had found and stored away a locket when she had arrived back at the underground.

As she left the room to find it, Sans watched over Frisk. They looked a lot older than when he’d last seen them. They were taller and their hair was cut shorter than before.

“Do you still hate me, Sans?”they asked out of the blue.

“no,” he answered truthfully, “but i’d appreciate it if you tried to make this right.”

“What makes you think I won’t?” they snapped, their hands balled into fists above the covers. “That’s why I asked for the locket!”

“what’s a locket gonna do, kid?”

Frisk sighs, resting their head back on the bed with a forceful flop. “Can I tell you in the morning? It’s been a long night.”

That was last night, and now Sans is standing outside the kid’s room. He knocks a couple of times and hears them call him in, so he enters. They’re sitting up in bed holding a heavy gold locket in their hands.

“how’re you feeling?” Sans asks, shuffling over to stand next to them.

“Better, but still tired,” they say, still staring down at the locket. “I know you want me to reset, but it’s going to take some time.”

Sans figures Frisk has had a rough time on the surface as well, considering that they’re not bothering to beat around the bush about resetting. Good. This timeline needs to go.

“how long?” 

“Hmm… at least a couple of days.” They look up to him, a familiar look on their face. Slightly squinted eyes, mouth a thin line, just missing the bangs in their face. It feels odd to be relieved to see that look. “I just have to rest up, eat monster food, make sure my energy is enough.”

“so where does the locket come in?” Sans asks as he nods toward the heart-shaped locket they’re holding.

“It’s Chara.” 

The name sends a shiver through him that he tries not to hide from Frisk.

“murder child, huh?” he says through gritted teeth.

They nod and regard him warily. “I need their help to reset, it makes it a lot easier. When we broke the barrier… as soon as I realized something was wrong, I threw the locket back down the hole to the underground. I had a feeling I’d need them.”

“good call, kid.” He leans against the bed, crossing his arms. “but, is this going to cause a genocide again?”

Frisk takes a deep breath in and lets it out through their lips with an obnoxious raspberry sound. “I’ll do my best not to let it.”

Sans doesn’t like that answer one bit, he doesn’t understand how they don’t know. Couldn’t they just fight Chara off or something? He wants to ask, but at seeing the almost desperate look in their eyes as they glance back at the locket, the words die in his nonexistent throat.

That answer will have to do, for now… but the others deserve to know about all this.

He sighs and reaches out to mess up their hair like he always used to. Instead of the soft strands of a child, his hand meets hair that’s coarse and foreign.

“i know you’ll do the right thing.” 

“Thanks, Sans.”

 

* * *

 

Sans came by in the morning to tell you and Grillby that Frisk had arrived in the middle of the night. He said that everyone needed to gather in the ruins for a meeting after lunchtime. Before then, he had seemed rather happy, but his tone turned serious as he kept talking, as if he was having a harder time keeping up appearances. You started to worry about the implications of this meeting.

You and Grillby walked hand-in-hand to the ruins from Snowdin, not saying much at all. You enjoy this comfortable silence, but can’t help but feel like he is worried as well. He looks over at you and gives you a little smile when you squeeze his hand, but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes… what is this about?

When the two of you walk into the dining room of Toriel’s home, everyone is already there. One chair is empty and Papyrus pats it in invitation to sit next to him. Toriel is sitting across from you, and Frisk is at the other end. You look to Grillby and he nods you toward Papyrus, squeezing your hand gently before letting go to walk over to where you see Sans, leaning against the wall behind Toriel.

You sit down next to Papyrus and look over to Frisk, who is leaning forward, arms resting on the table. They’re staring at their hands, their brown eyes seem distant and cold. Something is definitely wrong here.

“It’s good to see all of you,” they start, and all your assumptions of their age are sent into a tailspin. A teen’s voice that sounds heavy with age commands the attention of everyone in the room. “Though, I wish it was under better circumstances.”

“IT’S ALRIGHT FRISK! WE ARE SO HAPPY TO SEE THAT YOU’RE ALRIGHT!” Papyrus pipes up.

A smile twitches at Frisk’s lips. Papyrus’s endless optimism brightens them. “Thank you, Papyrus. I appreciate that.” They sigh and sit up a little straighter. “There’s something very important I have to tell you, though. I know it’s been difficult, lately. Difficult is an understatement. I never wanted this to happen when I helped you break the barrier and get out of the underground, but it’s worse than anything I could have expected. But… there’s a way things can change.”

“How?” Toriel asks. “Are there more humans willing to help us?”

“Unfortunately, no.It’s a little simpler than that, but also not.”

Everyone is confused now and Frisk groans, dragging their hands down their face. You see Sans step over, placing a hand on their back in one of the first acts of real affection he’s given anyone but Papyrus around you.

“want me to explain, kiddo?”

They nod wordlessly and slump back in their seat as Sans addresses the room. You look to Grillby again, still leaning against the wall. You’d like to think since meeting him you’ve gotten better at reading his expressions. But his arms are crossed as he watches him, and there isn’t an ounce of emotion on his face.

“a couple of you know kinda what i mean when i say frisk has time control powers. i’ve mentioned it before, but.. I’ve never really talked about what it really means.”

You’re definitely more alert after hearing this news, and you see Toriel’s eyes widen as she looks to the human child. By the way she reacts, she must not have known at all, and you recall Papyrus saying something about Sans mentioning time travel. Is that what he meant? Did Grillby know, too?

Sans continues. “it would take too long to explain how exactly this works without going into too much detail, but the kid can use their magic abilities to load back to previous points in time. they can also reset time to back when they gained these powers, which was when they first fell into the underground.”

“And that’s what I’m going to do.” Frisk suddenly cuts Sans off, pure determination in their eyes. “I can’t make this hit any less hard, so I might as well just come out with it. Something went horribly wrong when I broke the barrier before, and I need to fix it. The only way is with a full reset.”

“So… that means,” Toriel pauses for a moment, “we won’t remember you?”

“No, you won’t. But I will be loading back to when I fell, so we will meet again.” Frisk glances around at everyone. “Once I do this, it will be like the past five years never happened… because they didn’t.”

You’re in shock, your heartbeat is loud in your ears. They can just make five years disappear like that? Where will that put you?

You can feel eyes on you, and you look over to Grillby, who you see staring at you for only a second before he cuts his eyes away. You frown.

It’ll be like the two of you never met.

“I understand if anyone wants to ask questions,” Frisk continues, “But there’s limited time. I will need to rest up for this reset to work, and the longer I wait the harder it will probably be. I plan to do this tomorrow night.”

You stare at a spot on the table, unable to focus on anything else. Your mouth feels dry, and your chest is hurting slightly. By tomorrow night, you won’t be able to remember Grillby.

Sans speaks up when the silences stretches past uncomfortable into painful territory. “i suggest taking the night to let this sink in, and tomorrow for everyone to say their goodbyes… try not to worry about it too much. none of you will know the sadness of it after it happens.”

The bluntness of his statement hits hard, and you find yourself shaking, as if he’d physically reached over to hurt you as well as verbally. It isn’t until you feel a warm hand on your shoulder that you look up and realize you and Grillby are the only two left in the room. You look to him and your heart hurts when you see the pained expression in his eyes.

“Let’s go home,” he says softly.

You don’t question it, you just go along with him. The walk back to the bar is silent, and Grillby’s arm is around you the entire time. Once you get inside, Grillby turns the lights above the bar on and reaches for something on one of the higher shelves. He brings a bottle of liquor down and two shot glasses, setting them on the bar, and circles back around to where you stand.

He sits on one of the stools and looks to you, holding out a hand. You take it and sit yourself on the stool beside him. His free hand is opening the bottle and pouring a bit into each shot glass. You never would’ve expected him to get one for you, but you’re suddenly glad he did. You take the first shot, barely coughing at all after gulping it down. 

He throws his back and immediately pours another before setting the bottle down and turning to you.

“You know, I wanted to sleep with you before that night with Petra.”

It takes you a minute to process his words, still focused on the idea that a kid had the power to turn back time, but your cheeks grow warm in seconds. 

“Really?”

He nods and tips the bottle toward you. You slide over your shot glass for him to refill before you drain it again without preamble.

“I-I can’t say that I didn’t think about it, once, or twice, when I got a little more used to you.”

There’s blue along his face now, but it doesn’t seem to bother him. He fills his shot glass again. Instead of immediately drinking it, he stares at it in his hand a moment.

“I miss Petra.” He says it so quietly you almost don’t hear it.

“I miss her too,” you say, squeezing his hand.

He frowns rather angrily all of the sudden, and downs his shot. “I fucking loved her, and I still don’t know why.”

You slide your glass over to be filled without a word, Grillby’s admission making you think. You loved her too, but you’re sure that was nothing compared to how Grillby feels. Your eyes meet his as you take back your shot glass. It’s your turn.

You look at the liquid, deciding what you want to admit, “I… I still blame myself for my family’s death, even though I don’t know how the fire started. I still think I did it somehow.”

“I still blame myself for hurting you,” he says when he takes his shot.

Your turn. “I kinda feel like I’m a sex addict now.”

His turn. “I developed a kink after being ordered around in bed for so long.”

That’s… surprising. You decide to do one more. “I once slept with a random guy for a hot meal.”

“I slept with Charles to stop him from torturing a fellow slave.” He takes his shot, but pauses to add, “On more than one occasion.”

Grillby grabs the entire bottle then, downing a good portion of it before holding it out to you. It’s still fascinating to think how he processes liquid, and you can hear the slight sizzle as it passes his lips.

You take a swig of it. “What a prick… I’m glad he’s dead.”

“Honestly, me too,” he says as he takes the bottle back.

You wave away an offer of more and let him keep the bottle to himself. A drinking game of truth, no dare, devolves to a couple of tipsy lovers sharing terribly sad things from their lives.

“I hate that he got to you so quickly.” You see the anger in his eyes as he grips the bottle tightly. “I heard everything the first night he took you to the study. I waited so I could heal you, because I knew going in there unannounced would only make the situation worse.”

You can see him here with you, but your alcohol-fogged mind thinks of what would have happened if he tried to rescue you. The thought makes your throat tight and eyes sharp with tears. Knowing Charles, he would have ordered Grillby to hurt you then… and you’d become afraid of him after that, because you didn’t know his kindness then. Or even worse, he would have hurt Grillby more than he already had.

“Thank you for that,” you say, looking back into his eyes. “Thank you for healing me that night. I don’t know what I would have done without you.”

He sets the nearly empty bottle down and takes both your hands in his, leaning forward to rest his forehead to yours.

“I’m so glad I was able to help, and I’m glad you were able to get out of there.” He lets out a ragged sigh, breath hot against your face, the smell of near-burning alcohol filling your senses. It should be unpleasant, but it’s sweet like warm caramel. “I’m just so happy to have found you, and to spend this time with you.”

You swallow the lump of emotion building in your throat. “I am too, Grillby.”

He moves his hands to lace all of his fingers with yours. “Will you tell me more about you?”

“Only if you’ll do the same.”

He gives a gentle, yet passionate kiss to your lips before returning your smile.

“Deal.”

 


	42. Burn it Down

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Song: Acid Rain - Avenged Sevenfold]
> 
> I... wow. We're so close, y'all. I am honestly so excited and so happy though. This is the shortest multichapter fic I've written, but I feel like its been the most heartwrenching.
> 
> Well, there will be more time for feels in tomorrows chapter notes. For now...
> 
> Enjoy!  
> -Paige

You had only scraped the surface of Grillby’s pain before. Now that you know so much of his past you recognize the reasons for a lot of his mannerisms. He knows a lot about you now, too. You pretty much told him your life story last night, and Grillby took in every word, even through the nagging feeling that this won’t matter after the reset. It matters now.

You just can’t help but love him.

Once all the truth was in the open, the two of you had started listing reasons why a reset was going to be a good thing. A second chance for those like Petra and Charles, and a redo at the monsters attempt to reenter society.

You still didn’t talk about forgetting one another, though.

When morning came, the elephant was still in the room, and now you stand in Toriel’s home with Papyrus, tears in your eyes as he spills his guts to you.

“I’M GOING TO MISS YOU!” he says, a tear falling from his eye socket, “YOU’RE ONE OF MY BEST FRIENDS! I HOPE THAT WE MEET AGAIN UNDER BETTER CONDITIONS!”

“I hope so too, Papyrus,” you tell him as he pulls you into a tight hug, “you’ve been nothing but amazing and kind. Thank you.”

“YOU AS WELL, ____! I AM THANKFUL FOR THE TIME WE GOT TO SPEND TOGETHER!”

You’ve been trying not to cry, but it’s futile now. As strong as you’ve been for Grillby, something about Papyrus makes you feel like you can let go. Tears begin to spill from your eyes as he holds you.

“IT’S GOING TO BE ALRIGHT!” he says, though he is crying himself, “WE WILL HAVE A BETTER START AFTER THIS!”

“I hope so Pap,” you say, “I hope so.”

 

* * *

Grillby and Sans stand in Snowdin forest, a pair of eerie silhouettes on an unsuspecting landscape. The two walked out together into the snow from the ruins as you and Papyrus said your goodbyes. They haven’t really said anything yet, but both of them know they need to talk to one another.

“You won’t forget any of this, will you?” Grillby eventually asks.

Sans shakes his head slowly. “nope. never do.”

“I feel as though I remember you saying something about it before.” Grillby looks to him. “I’m sorry.”

Sans shrugs, hands still firmly jammed in his jacket pockets. “‘ts fine. i’m used to it by now, mostly.”

Grillby frowns, not believing him in the slightest. “How do you do it?”

“i really don’t know the answer to that myself,” he answers, “i guess i have to… for pap, for you. there have been times where i’ve given up though.”

Grillby reaches out, resting his hand on Sans’ shoulder. “I wish you didn’t have to deal with it alone.”

“i wouldn’t want anyone else to be burdened with it.”

There’s another stretch of silence, and Grillby is wondering what he should say next. There’s so much he’d like to, but there’s just not enough time. And as optimistic as he is trying to be, for your sake and the others who know what’s coming, in the privacy in his mind it’s hard not to give into nihilistic thoughts.

“the botched bond won’t exist anymore,” Sans says into the ruff of his jacket. “so that’ll be good for us.”

“Good for-” Grillby stops and shakes his head, the spark of indignation he felt fizzling out as soon as he sees how miserable Sans looks. “Do you think that we’ll be together again? Enough to bond?” Grillby asks him hesitantly.

Sans meets his gaze over his jacket, face schooled to blankness. “that depends if you’d rather be with me or ____.”

He winces at the pain those words cause to his soul. “I… I can’t answer that. I’m not the same Grillby that you’re going to wake up to see tomorrow.”

Sans lets out a sigh, running his hand against his face. The sharp sound of his bones rubbing together rings out.

“i guess i’ll just have to see how that goes, then.” 

“Sans…” Grillby takes his hands in his, “I love you, and I know that I still will after tonight. I loved you before we even became an item. You know that.”

The pinpricks of light in Sans’ eye sockets are bright even though he is frowning. Grillby knows there’s still a bit of hope in there, even if Sans doesn’t. He doesn’t even need the half-shattered bond between them to know.

He then does something he knows Sans would usually hate, but something that is definitely the bond this time, thrums sharp and painful inside of him. It’s like the wistful beg of a hurt creature, pulling at the deepest reaches of him without Sans saying a word. Grillby lets go of his hands to wrap his arms around the skeleton’s rib cage and lifts him up into a hug. Sans returns it, wrapping his own arms around Grillby’s neck.

“thanks, grillbz.” Sans says, voice muffled as he buries his face against him.

“I’m always going to be here for you, Sans,” Grillby says, holding him tightly against him. “I promise.”

 

* * *

It’s getting late. You wish you could freeze time for just a little longer. Be here with Grillby for just another day, even a few more hours.

But you know as soon as those hours pass, you’ll beg for more. It’s fruitless.

He’s holding you in his lap, your legs and arms wrapped around him as the two of you are sitting on his bed without a stitch of clothing. It feels right, being this close, this warm. 

“I don’t want to forget you,” you whisper, hugging him just a bit tighter.

“I know. I don’t want to forget you either,” he says before placing a kiss to your neck. “I hope I can find you again, under different circumstances this time.”

“Me too. I hope the next time Frisk breaks the barrier that humans can be more accepting.”

His hands run along your back slowly, like he’s taking his time to imbue the feel of your skin in his mind. You unwrap one of your arms to place your hand on his upper arm, trailing your thumb along one of the larger scars there.

“I’m glad that you won’t have these scars anymore to remind you of the pain.” 

“Will you still have yours?” he asks, “From the house fire?”

“I’ve had them a lot longer than 5 years, so I’m sure I will.” You feel the way he shifts with worry for you, but you press your cheek into his chest and smile, trying to convince him as well as yourself when you say, “It’s okay though.”

You turn your head to face him, watching as he touches the scars on your arm like you did with his. Each brush of his hand, a hand made of fire, over your burns feels ironic but right. His face is filled with worry, his bright eyes narrowed slightly as he takes it all in.

“Who knows? Maybe I’ll be able to get some help this time around,” you say, attempting to console him, “maybe I won’t be as afraid of fire.”

He lets out a short huff of laughter. “Maybe… I just want you to be happy and safe after this.”

The words feel heavy as they hang between you. The smile you’d put on to try to make this easier falls away.

“I love you, Grillby.”

“I love you, ____.”

You don’t know how many times you’ve said that already, but it still doesn’t feel like enough. It will never be enough. He wraps his arms around you once again, face back at the crook of your neck as he inhales deeply, squeezing you against him until it's almost difficult to breathe.

There’s the same familiar flip-flopping in your chest that you get when the two of you are intimate, but it feels even stronger now, and you swear you feel a spike in the temperature of his chest as you’re pressed to it.

“May I ask something of you, my love.” 

His voice is deep, sultry, sending a shiver through you. You would say yes to anything he asked in that voice. “What is it?”

“Would you give me permission to touch your soul?”

This isn’t something you’d discussed before, and you don’t have any context for the implications of this action. Or what it could mean to him. But the way you feel now gives you no other choice but to be brave and follow what your Soul says to do.

“What will happen if you do?” you ask.

“I can’t really explain it.” He loosens his grip, leaning back a bit to look at you. “But, I’ll be able to really… feel how you feel.”

“Will it hurt?”

A chuckle escapes him. “It would have quite the opposite effect, actually.”

You raise a brow. “Is it like monster sex or something?”

“I mean… you could say that?”

You smile, feeling silly for asking that when you lay naked in each other’s arms. But this request feels more intimate, even. “Can I touch yours, too?”

Ah, there’s the blue flames you love so much, fading in and out across his face and chest.

“If you want to,” he says quietly.

“Do you want me to?”

The blush reaches the flames on his head, which are flickering rather wildly.

“Yes.”

You can’t help but lean in to kiss his lips gently. “How do we do it?”

He moves you back only slightly, so that you’re still in his lap, but there’s a few inches of space between your bodies. He lays his hand flat against your chest, like he had the many times he healed you. 

“Take a deep breath and relax as you exhale.” 

You do as he says, closing your eyes in the process. There’s a shudder and a tug within your chest and suddenly you feel just a little empty. You open your eyes and are surprised to actually see an orange heart floating between you two. His bright yellow eyes are wide as he stares into it.

“It’s even more beautiful than I thought,” he whispers.

You feel yourself blush as you watch him, your very soul above his hand. 

“You said orange stands for bravery,” you say, recalling the talk you had the first time you really stood to talk with him in the kitchens of the mansion.

“It does,” he confirms with reverence, “and you are very brave, indeed.”

He holds up his other hand, fingertips disturbing the air around your soul, causing you to shudder.

“Ready?” he asks.

You nod and watch as he takes a deep breath and touches one finger to your soul. Your eyes close automatically and you gasp as it feels like you’re being dunked in ice cold water… and then you’re warm.

Almost hot, really. You can feel yourself gripping Grillby’s shoulders as he adds more fingers to the surface of your soul. Soon, you’re out of touch with reality and and it feels like someone is looking deep into your very essence. It fluxes past the point of any sexual act you’ve ever experienced. It means so much more to be touched by him this way, someone you love and cherish and now can’t imagine being without.

He delves deeper still and suddenly you’re sweating, shaking, and can’t quite catch your breath. It isn’t from fear though; it’s from all your senses feeling stimulated at once. Grillby’s other hand is running through your hair, and you can hear him speaking soft praises to you.

By the time he pulls his hand away, you’re a wet, panting mess. He gently pushes your soul back into your chest and leans his forehead against yours.

“Thank you for that,” he breathes, hands rubbing your arms slowly.

“Thank me?” you mumble, causing him to laugh softly.

“You’re amazing.” 

“Do I-” you swallow, mouth feeling awfully dry, “do I get to see yours now?”

He presses a kiss to your lips before sitting up straight again, this time bringing his hand up to his chest. He moves his hand slightly away from him and with it comes a small, upside down heart that is pure white.

“It’s a bit different than yours,” he tells you. “All monster souls look the same.”

“It’s lovely,” you say, realizing that you’ve started reaching out already. You pause to look at him and he moves his soul a bit closer to your hand in invitation.

You go ahead and close your eyes in preparation as you brush your fingertips against his soul. Nothing could have prepared you. An overwhelming wave of emotions rushes through you. Uncertainty, fear, adoration, desire, and holy shit, an abundance of love.

You press harder and can see memories through his eyes, and feel the emotion within each one. How he felt the first time he healed you, the worry in him when you had run into the kitchen the morning after you’d been in the basement. There’s so much, almost too much to handle, but you soon get to the core of how he feels about you.

And then you’re crying silently, because he doesn’t want to lose you either. He’s terrified he’ll never see you again, but even more, he wants you safe and happy. As much as you want to keep going, you make yourself stop, afraid you’ll be sobbing uncontrollably if you keep on.

He pulls his soul back into his chest and immediately wraps you up in his arms. He’s even warmer to the touch than before, and the flames lick at your skin all over.

“I don’t want this reset to happen.” You cry quietly, “I just want to be with you.”

“I know, I know.” He whispers against your skin, peppering kisses down your neck, “I want to be with you too. I love you.”

“I love you, Grillby. So much.” You cling to him as if your life depends on it.

It occurs to you that there can’t be much time left in the night. You don’t want to spend it crying on his shoulder. You push yourself up and look at him, laying a hand on his face, smiling when he turns into it.

“Grillby?”

“Yes, my love.”

He runs his hand down your arm slowly, tracing the bumps and ridges of your scars with a look that makes you feel beautiful in a way no one ever has before.

“Make love to me,” you say, staring into his eyes.

You smile when the corner of his mouth pulls up in a smirk. “Is that an order?”

“You know what? It absolutely was.” 

The laugh he lets out is deep and almost dark. “You don’t seem like the ordering type, ____… But I will happily oblige.”

He pulls you down on top of him, pressing his lips to yours in a fit of desperation that you try hard to match. Your stomach flips like going over the top of a rollercoaster. He holds you to him like you’re his only life source, promising to get his fill of you until there is nothing left.

.

 

..

 

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**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please leave a comment below! I truly appreciate it!


	43. Rising from the Ashes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HERE'S THE EPILOGUE! HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO ME!! (also, I'll be at Atlantale today if any of you are going!)
> 
> By the wayyyyy, the first chapter of my new Grillby/Reader fic, Fireball is up! [READ IT HERE!!!!](http://archiveofourown.org/works/13626759/chapters/31289841)
> 
> Enjoy!!  
> -Paige

“Geeze, I’d sell my body for a good sandwich right about now.”

“don’t say that so loudly, someone might actually take the offer.”

You roll your eyes and look over at Sans. He’s your coworker at your second job at a restaurant famous for its hot dogs. He also happens to be a skeleton monster.

It’s been… three years now? Three years since monsters left a place called the Underground. There was apparently a whole civilization of monsters under Mount Ebott, and one human helped them escape from their prison. It took some time for humans to adjust and accept it, and of course many still aren’t willing to, but you’re happy to see the majority integrating into society fairly well!

“Who, you?” you ask with a smirk, responding to his innuendo.

He laughs. “sorry, kid, you’re not my type.”

You feign disappointment and snap your fingers. “Damn.”

The two of you burst into giggles. This is the usual banter between the two of you. You’ve only known him for a few months, but he’s always good for brightening your mood when you’re down.

“so, wanna go on a date tonight?” 

You know it’s not a real date. You learned quickly that monsters have a different definition for the word ‘date’ as well as the classic human version of them. Something about the human ambassador going on dates with monsters? Either way, he has his eye on someone else, but he’s been trying to get you to go somewhere with him and meet one of his friends. There’s just one little problem…

“Sans, are you trying to ask me to go with you to Grillby’s again?”

“damn, you caught me.” He leans against the counter you’re standing at. “but yeah. i think it’s time you actually humor me and go.”

Your face scrunches up as your thoughts conflict. You stare down at one of the burn scars covering your left forearm, “You know I’m afraid of fire… and you said your friend is  _ made  _ of it.”

Sans sighs softly. You know he’s only trying to help you with your fear, but that doesn’t make you any less afraid.

“didn’t your therapist tell you it might be good to face it little by little?”

“...Yeah,” You say, feeling a tad uneasy.

“and he literally has a face.”

“Sans.”

He looks far too pleased at his poor pun. “why don’t we go and sit in a booth near the door. that way you aren’t near the bar, and you can bolt if you feel the need to.”

You think on it for a moment, running a hand over your scar before meeting his eyes again, “Okay. But only if we sit near the back.”

His smile turns more genuine. “you got it, bud.”

 

* * *

Sans keeps to his word, holding the booth closest to the front doors of the restaurant. You both slide in across from one another and wait until one of the workers walks over. 

“Good evening, love, may I start you off with a drink?”

The waitress who approaches your table is simply stunning. Her green eyes lock with yours, a piece of black hair falling from the messy bun atop her head. She’s speaking directly to you, and you aren’t sure what to say.

“hey, what about me?” Sans asks, looking playfully offended at her.

She smirks and looks over to him. “Oh I already know what you want… two things actually, and you aren’t getting one of them.”

You have to stifle laughter at Sans’ bright blue face as she turns back to you.

“I’m sorry, sweetie. Did you want a drink?”

“I-I’d just like a water, please.” 

She smiles sweetly. “Alright, I’ll be right out with that. By the way, if you need me, my name is Petra.”

She turns to walk off, playfully hitting Sans with her notepad along the way. He chuckles, still looking very much embarrassed.

“So that’s the one I keep hearing about,” you say with a smile.

You think Sans is going to deny it at first, but he slouches against the table, skull in his hands.

“maybe…”

You snicker. “She’s cute, and it seems like she enjoys teasing you.”

“heh, i’ve been joking around with her since she started working here. we’ve drank together a couple of times now.” He smiles as he looks to you. “she’s good company. i’m surprised she’s the first person Grillby ended up hiring.”

“Oh really? Where’d she come from?” you ask, seeing her across the room, her hips swaying with every step she takes.

“i’m not sure where she is actually from. all i know is that she came out of a bad breakup and needed a job fast.” Your eyes meet meaningfully. “you didn’t hear that from me.”

“Hear what?” you say with a smile. “Well, I’m glad you two are getting along. She seems nice.”

Petra comes back with a glass of water for you and a bottle of ketchup for Sans, which doesn’t surprise you in the least. 

“Any idea what you’d like to eat?” she asks, rolling her eyes when she sees Sans squirt ketchup into his mouth.

“I think I’ll just take whatever your house burger is,” you tell her.

“Good choice,” she says, writing it down including the level of doneness you prefer. “What about you, boney?”

“just my regular order of fries,” he says.

“And that’s all?” You don’t miss the sly smile she gives him, her eyes narrowed dangerously.

He’s even more blue now, the color impossible to hide. It just seems to fuel Petra even more. “heh, for now, yeah.”

“I’ll be back with your food shortly!” she says cheerfully, giving you a wink before walking off. You’re back to giggling at Sans, who’s thoroughly embarrassed.

“Blue looks good on you.”

“shut it.”

You take a sip of your water, waiting patiently for Sans’ to regain his composure. Once the blue is barely noticeable, you decide to ask about one of the reasons he brought you here in the first place.

“So, you still planning on introducing me to Grillby?” 

That snaps him back to attention immediately, “yeah. i think you’ll like him, he’s pretty  _ hot _ .”

You sigh and lean your forehead into your palm, resigned to your fate. “Oh my god, Sans.”

“he’ll  _ light up  _ your life.”

You let out a groan.

“set your soul  _ ablaze  _ with-”

“Why are you like this?” you ask, feeling your face heat up against your will.

Sans raises a brow bone. “what? getting a little  _ hot under the collar _ ?  _ can’t take the heat _ ?”

“Sans!”

He raises his hands up, “geez, no need to get  _ all fired up. _ ”

You’re about to throw a salt shaker at him when yelling from a couple of tables over catches your attention. The two of you look over to see some random guy yelling at a monster about half his size. You hear a slur of expletives coming from his mouth, the monster cowering under his glare.

“HEY!”

You see Petra walk over, anger in her eyes as she stares the guy down. “I suggest you leave, sir.”

The guy lets out a laugh. “Who’s gonna throw me out? You?”

A smile crosses her lips and she blinks a few times, meeting his eyes with hers.

“If I were you, I’d get out of here… and not come back. How does that sound?”

“Uh…” In the space of a few blinks,  the guy acts completely lost, his hand goes to his head and his eyes wide. “Oh shit, yeah, that’s probably a good idea.”

“Good. Then you should get going.”

Nodding to himself the whole way, the guy runs out of the bar, leaving the rest of the patrons to give Petra a round of applause. She turns to the monster who was being bullied, making sure they're okay. The crowd only calms down when the monster you can guess is the owner of the bar walks over to check on his customer as well. 

Grillby is hard to miss, certainly, as unmistakable as a tall man made of flame can be. Your hands tighten into fists at the sight. Memories stir uncomfortably in your mind.Your gut turns as your eyes are drawn into the flames that make up his body. You take a deep breath.

_ It's okay. He's made of fire, but it's okay. _

_ You can do this. _

“Petra…” Grillby speaks, his voice deep and laced with little pops like a campfire, “what did I tell you about using magic to manipulate guests?”

“Hey, I just saved you the trouble of getting the cops involved with that guy,” she says, hands going straight to her hips as she glares at him.

He seems to be laughing as he shakes his head. The sound runs through you with goosebumps all over. At first you think it’s because it sounds a bit like a Christmas fireplace, but then you’re not so sure. 

“Am I going to have to keep you in the back washing dishes?”

“And keep me off the main floor? Come on, Grillby, you want to give people less of a reason to come here? I mean, according to you, Sans has come in here twice as often since I started working here.”

Sans sinks back into his seat, hands over his face as you laugh. It’s obvious they know you’re eavesdropping now, though you’re sure that’s true for most of the restaurant. Petra smirks, pointing toward you and Sans’ booth, which grabs Grillby's attention.

Your eyes meet his and you gulp. He's starting to walk over, and you find yourself frozen.

He stares at you a moment, his golden eyes narrowing behind his glasses at you.

“Have we met?” he asks, his voice much quieter now.

You blink a few times., “I… don't think so?”

Why do his eyes seem familiar? Maybe it's just because he's fire, something you still see in your more unhappy dreams. But there’s nothing unhappy inside of you when you look at him.

He extends his hand to you, and for a moment you simply look at it. It's pure fire in the shape of a hand… you find yourself raising your own hand slowly to meet his, your fingers shaking.

He doesn't seem to mind your hesitation, and he gently shakes your hand once it takes hold of his.

“My name is Grillby.” 

“I-I’m ____.”

Grillby smiles as he lets go of your hand and it knocks your fear down significantly. He may be made of fire, but he seems rather friendly.

“grillbz! this is the human i was telling you about,” Sans says, having gotten over his bout of blushing.

You look to him in shock. “You've been talking about me?!”

Sans’ smile grows wider. “of course i did! did you really expect me not to?”

“You… have a point,” you say, now thinking on the kinda monster Sans is.

“It's all nice things,” Grillby surprises you by saying, “You're going to school for nursing, right?”

You feel yourself blush under his gaze. “Uh, I w-will be soon, yeah.”

“Good luck,” he says nodding to you before looking back to Sans, whose eyes are about as wide as his smile. “What?”

Sans chuckles. “it's nothing, grillbz. just glad to finally get you two to meet.”

“Why is that, anyway?” you ask.

Sans shrugs. “just thought the two of you would get along well, that's all.”

You and Grillby glance at each other, and you swear you see a tinge of blue to his face before it disappears in a flash.

“Yes, well… I'm glad you came by,” he says to you, “please feel free to visit… even without the dead weight.”

Sans snorts and you can't stop a laugh from escaping you. Puns not told by your skeleton coworker automatically feel fresher. Grillby simply smiles and nods to you before walking back toward the bar. Sans waits a few moments before leaning his elbows back onto the table and staring at you.

“well, what’re you thinking, kid?”

“I-I shook his hand,” you say, looking down at the same hand, “I didn't think I would.”

“wasn't so scary, huh?”

“Not really… No.” You find yourself smiling a little.

“there ya go!” Sans leans back in the booth, ketchup bottle raised in his hand, and acting very pleased with himself. “and it's a good thing, since we're coming here for lunch daily from now on.”

Your jaw drops. “What?! Sans, I can't afford that!”

Sans waves you off. “don't worry, i can put it on my tab.”

“Sans, I'm not doing that!” you raise your voice. “Geeze, you come here enough to have a tab?”

He shrugs. “grillby is pretty chill, for such a  _ hot  _ guy. he knows i'll pay it off eventually.”

You seriously doubt that, but before you can say anything, Petra walks over with your food. She simply smiles at you as she sets the plates down, poking Sans’ shoulder as she walks away.

“So when are you gonna ask her out?” you ask.

Sans doesn't answer, deciding to focus on squirting ketchup all over his fries instead. You smile to yourself and bite into your burger. The most delightful taste fills your mouth and you nearly moan. How the hell did you not come here sooner?!

It doesn't take long for you to devour the burger, and when Petra finally walks back to the table, you're so full that you know there's no room for dessert.

“I think I'm ready for the check,” you tell her.

She smiles and pats your shoulder. “Oh don't worry about it, love. It's on the house.”

You stare at her in stunned silence. “W-what?”

“On the house. Free!” she repeats, “Grillby said so, and he's the boss! What he says, goes, no questions. No loopholes.”

“yeah, if you were in charge everything would cost double,” Sans cuts in.

“You're not wrong,” she says, sticking her tongue out at him before looking back to you. “Anyway, I hope you enjoyed the meal! Come back anytime!... just leave this one behind.”

Petra smirks and turns on her heel, giving a wonderful view of her rear before walking off. You cover your mouth to keep from laughing when you see Sans turning blue again.

“well, i guess now is a good of a time as any to head home,” Sans says, standing from his booth.

“Why, because you're too nervous to talk to her?” You ask, grinning widely.

“aaand, that's my cue. see ya at work.”

You laugh and reach out to him. “Hold on! At least let me go thank Grillby first.”

You stand from your seat and head to the bar, feeling a little braver than before. You see Grillby slide a drink down to a customer as you approach him, and he seems a little surprised when he notices you're there.

“Mister, uh, Grillby,” you say awkwardly, “I just wanted to thank you for the food. You didn't have to do that, but I appreciate it.”

He smiles warmly. “It's no problem.”

You rock on your feet a couple of times, unsure what to say next without sounding like a bumbling idiot, but for some reason you don’t want to walk away yet.

“W-well, thanks again! I hope you have a good night!” 

“You as well.” He says it so politely, so professional, but the words strike a chord with you. “Don’t be a stranger, ____.”

Something in the way he says your name sounds so familiar, you just can't seem to place it. Nonetheless, it feels nice, so you linger more. It’s like you’re a literal moth getting drawn into his flame, a feeling that is impossible to ignore.

“Nah, I won’t be. Sans threatened to come here every day on our lunch breaks.”

Grillby chuckles, passing another drink to Petra when she comes to collect it. There’s an odd dazed look that passes over her as she looks at the two of you, but she blinks it away too fast for you to catch.

“Then I expect to see you, too, ____.”

You blink slowly, feeling bolder than you have in ages. Maybe it was the way he said your name. Or, maybe the fact you'd faced your fear without going up in flames gave you the confidence for what you said next. Either way, it feels like an out of body experience, even stronger than the almost deja vu you’ve been trying to ignore the last few minutes.

"Is that an order?"

The look on his face is almost unreadable as he takes in what you say, but you hope the more you get to know him you will understand how a fire can look surprised.

His voice is slow and careful. "You don't seem like the ordering type."

Your shrug is almost playful, and you ignore the butterflies in your stomach. "You just don't know me well enough yet."

As you walk back outside to join Sans, you hear more laughter behind you from the fire elemental you can't get out of your mind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can't believe UiF is done... I feel like I'm in a dream kinda lol. I can't thank all of my friends enough with their support and help on this, especially Uwa-So-Frisk with her editing! I love you all to death and I hope to see you in the comment section of my new fic! :D
> 
> Thank you again for reading, I'm so happy you did <3

**Author's Note:**

> [LISTEN TO THE UiF PLAYLIST HERE!](https://open.spotify.com/user/1249626311/playlist/2tV2w3TF8IbXkX94be9HeP)  
> [CHAT ME UP ON TUMBLR!](https://fitofpaige17.tumblr.com/)  
>  If you have an Undertale related drabble you'd like me to write, leave your request [HERE!](http://archiveofourown.org/works/12651807)
> 
> Also check out my other Undertale fics! Safe Place, Spitfire, and This Heart is a Stone!


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